Alternate reality
by Tremble Wolf
Summary: Set at the end of Mechwarrior-4-mercs and Halo 3, Specter and his team are in-transit when their jumpship experiences a malfunction bringing them into another universe. In this universe they find Humanity in a war for survival and have to fight to survive
1. Chapter 1

* * *

Alternate Reality

Chapter 1: "Jump"

Location: Outreach, Inner Sphere, Aboard Talon class drop ship Skippy, attached to Jump ship Buzzard.

Time/ 21:43 GST

------------- Year: 3073 -----------

"What's our status?" A commanding voice echoed from a man as he leaned over the railing of a catwalk that looked down upon a maintenance/ storage bay that was usually given the title of "mech bay".

This man was named Specter; he was a mercenary commander, and a seasoned warrior from the FedComm civil war. He was light skinned and topped with short brown hair, with angled features and numerous scars; it was hard to believe that he was in his mid twenties. His bright eyes investigated the mech bay below him and silently counted the large number of mechs that graced every available piece of space there was.

It wasn't long until a technician came running up, wiping his sweaty hands through his grubby hair. "Sir! We will have all set and ready within moments, we are ready for jump!" The tech announced while standing straight.

"Good." Specter replied, he leaned back and walked off the catwalks towards the elevator that would take him towards the bridge. The walk was short since Talon drop ships are relatively small, and Specter, otherwise known as John Anderson, strode crisply into the immaculate bridge.

Falcon, a.k.a. Aisa Thastus, Stood stoically to the side looking indifferent to all around her. She briefly acknowledged John's presence by nodding and then returning to ignoring all.

Charles Harding, John's second in command, code-named Beowulf, stood leaning against the back wall. His quiet smirk stayed still and his eyes lit up as he noticed John standing in ironed fatigues. Charlie, as John called him, stroked his chin that was peppered with short stubble and lost himself in thought.

The ship's captain looked over his shoulder and hailed him. "We are ready to jump in ten seconds and…" There was an audible screech of metal as they noticed a piece of asteroid hit the jump ship's engine.

"Sir! We're about to jump! That asteroid could have done anything to mislead us!" The captain's words were lost as the inescapable jump accelerated them into what they couldn't find out.

* * *

"Emergency lights." Groaned the captain.

"Yes sir." One of the officers cried before the glimmering red lights showed what they were looking at.

"I need a damage report, and fast! Justin, tell me where we are now!" Every one was scurrying to their posts, and it wasn't long before Justin's answer came, with relief and confusion.

"Sir? We're still outside of outreach, but something's very wrong…" His shaky voice gave off the impression of bad news.

"What is it?" The captain calmly replied.

"Look at the planet!"

John followed the captain's gaze and looked out a view port to see something very disturbing… It was a dead planet; it looked like it had been hit with a giant sledgehammer. Pieces of the planet floated aimlessly in giant shards of rock and pure glass.

"What happened?" The captain asked worriedly, "Did we do that?"

"Unknown, but I do doubt that we could do _that_." The science officer declared.

Aisa left the bridge without being noticed; personally she was not too sad about seeing an Inner Sphere planet destroyed, especially since it was filled with mercenaries. So she left to her own business, which usually consisted of books, or practicing in the simulators.

Charles shifted from side to side wondering what was going on, all the crew of both ships were still.

And just as John was about to ask what they should do, their radars picked up an unidentified signal, everyone was immediately alert, and in motion once again.

"Sir! Unidentified ship is hailing us!" The comm. Officer announced.

"Then reply!"

"Yes sir!" The comm. Officer wiped his brow and opened a channel. "This is Northwind Highlander drop ship Skippy, Captained by Reynolds Walker. Please respond." The communications officer felt sweat beading on his forehead as the screen came to life and an alien face came into view.

"Hello human, if you do not mind, I think we would like to 'examine' your ship, we do not recognize its configuration." The voice came from an alien with a really long neck and a face that held a tall crown and looked, even though alien, very haughty.

The science officer was alarmed; he stood straight and almost screamed at the captain.

"Sir! They seem to be powering up kind of torpedo weapons! They seem to be made up of plasma!"

"Then send a reply!"

The weapons officer swiveled his chair and began to target the ship. "PPC's armed, lasers 1-5 are charged, and that Arrow IV Cluster launcher we had installed is ready and locked. We are in PPC range, close to attack range."

"Target their weapons!"

"Yes sir!"

John looked on, but before another second went by, an idea sprang into his mind.

"Charlie! Gather you lance, meet me in the Mech-bay!"

John left the bridge as he heard the captain give the order, the missiles and PPC's noticeably left the ship, but John didn't get to hear how it went. He ran at top speed until he reached the lounge where his lance which consisted of Bullseye, Hannibal, and Falcon, he hurriedly motioned for them to follow him and ran off.

The lights seemed like streaks as Specter ran through the corridors and reached his destination. The doors parted and showed him through to see just what he wanted.

He noticed Beowulf and his lance standing by and ran up to them.

"Ok team… We've been through worse than this, and we are going to help the flyboys as they do their thing. Got it?"

No one said a thing, this allowed for him to continue. "Get into some power armor we're going right in with jump jets, they'll allow us to fly our way in to see these aliens' insides look like." John ran over to the racks and started to seal himself in, he called a tech other get it geared up.

They all got dressed up in power armor, fit up with jump jets and a large laser in the left arm, and a high-powered machine-gun in the right. The arm also had extendable claws that could help them climb, and dig into their enemies. Specter made sure he would be maneuverable and he was airtight. Soon after he stalked towards the nearest airlock. The room depressurized as the door opened and began to suck them out.

Specter opened his comm. And began to order to his troops. "Stay in formation, and watch out because we are still firing at their ship. Follow me; I think we can get in by, ripping a hole in its hull… ok? Right, there is still a diminished shield, so keep shooting ahead of you and I'm sure we can get to the ship."

They were already drifting in the void, gliding slowly towards the Covenant ship. John released a little bit of his jets and started going a little faster, he powered up his large laser and his arm started to glow green. The beam of pure energy burned from his arm and into the shield, it sparkled and dissipated with all the continuous fire from the ship and his men. Specter's lance and Beowulf's lance loomed closer to the alien metal, and they reached out with their claws and latched on.

"Use your lasers to warm them up a bit, then tear them and climb in." Specter smiled as the replies of his men echoed in, and he once more powered up his laser.

They were about to fire when he noticed something nearby on the ship, what looked like a vehicle hanger.

"Wait! Maybe we can get in there without locking down all the doors. Follow me, we're inside of the shields, so move!"

They inched closer to the shield and got ready to move as soon as a fighter or other ship decided to go. Their opportunity came sooner than expected, a ship, which they later came to know as the seraph, powered up, and bumped into something by the shield, it powered off, and allowed them all to rush in.

They were just barely fast enough, for just after they jetted in, the force field was fixed and the room was pressurized and given gravity once more. They all clattered to the ground guiltily and readied their weapons. So far, the room was clear, so Specter motioned for his lance to move to the far door, then ordered Beowulf's lance to go to the door at the opposite end so as to cover greater ground of the ship.

Specter leaned toward the purple-lighted door and it opened to reveal something revolting… a giant ape that looked like it was from a nightmare and fully armored. It snarled and then barked something totally alien and raised a gnarly looking weapon and fired a round projectile at specter's chest.

The grenade ricocheted off and into the wall, where it first dented it and then blew a huge hole into the purple rounded metal.

His lance all replied by raising their guns and pelting the beast with Machine gun rounds that left the shredded monster in a heap. Falcon walked over to it and knelt by its head; she then became disinterested and stood up again. They trudged on and deeper into the unknown ship.

"Look at these halls, they almost seem unneeded in their design, like…" Hannibal never finished; his commander quickly cut him off.

"Quiet on the comm. I don't care about your observations, just follow me." He ordered while he flattened himself around a corner and peeked his faceplate around the edge to see the hall, though he himself was interested in the almost ornamental design of the ship's layout and structure.

One patrol slowly stalked up the hall, four of the brutes, and six "jackals". Specter stepped out to their surprise and disintegrated three jackals with his laser, and then with his claw he charged one of the brutes. He gripped its chest and stuffed his machine gun into its belly and killed it despite its best attempts.

His lance methodically took down the others as they kept their cool and silenced the room. They continued on, the halls leading on and on until they reached a different type of room. This one had holding cells, and a whole lot a guards. They all fired their lasers into the beasts killing four of them, one each, then they brought up their machineguns while they waited for their lasers to charge.

Specter's shoulder was being violently shaken as he threw the gun around the room. One beast saw its brother go down and charged him, specter's bullets had no effect, and so he readied himself. The berserking monster came on him with the force of a skyscraper and threw him across the room and landed on top of him. Specter reached his claw up to the creature's face and squeezed around its neck, but it didn't give up beating him until the head rolled off as a result of the razor sharp claw.

Humbled, Specter pushed the heap off him and leaned against the wall, glad for the support.

Specter groaned, "That hurts," His voice slightly humbled and scratchy as he pulled himself towards one of the cells to see what was in them. And to his surprise he saw aliens in one side and humans in the other side of the room.

Gator nervously asked what they should do, but Specter only breathed for a few moments before replying.

"Let's see how Beowulf's doing." Specter paused as he switched channels. "Beowulf, this is Specter, what's your status?"

"Sir. We are safe, and in what appears to be some kind of control room, but we have no understanding of how this works so, we have just resorted to hold the area. You?" He answered with a hint of annoyance.

"We are in a holding room, maybe these prisoners will be willing to help us." Specter said brightly.

"Ask them." Gator suggested.

"Sure, sure, let's do this." Specter replied as he walked over to one of the alien holding cells, this alien was definitely different from the ones he had been fighting, this one was tall with an elongated neck and four fingerlike mandibles, double jointed legs and hooves for feet, Specter addressed him in the best way he could imagine, talking.

"Well, hello… Sir… Would you be willing to assist us? We have no knowledge of how this technology works." Specter didn't know if he had offended it, in fact he couldn't tell anything by looking at it. So he waited for an answer.

"Human..." The alien growled deeply and spat out the name as if in disgust and stared at Specter.

"Oh! Right… Let me introduce myself; my name if John Anderson, and you are?" Specter hastily replied while he powered of his suit and jumped out of it.

The alien was wearing a golden suit of armor huffed and then decided to give an answer. "I do not give my name to those undeserving of hearing it." One of the recently released humans pointed at the alien and yelled. "Don't trust it sir! It just wants out, and then it'll kill us all!"

The alien looked angered and banged a fist against his force field. "How dare you insult my honor you filth!"

Falcon leaned against the wall and just ignored everyone. "_If I wait, they will calm down and get to business_." She thought and kept her cool. While Specter put on his armor once more and ran between the marine and the alien as they were threatening to punch at each other through the shield.

"Guys! Guys! Calm down! We need to get out of this heap!" Specter looked at the marine and asked sternly, "Will you be willing to follow my orders?"

"Yes Sir!" The frustrated marine saluted.

"Good, and you!' Specter glared through his visor at the alien, 'Are you willing to get along and help me out?"

"I am only willing to claim my ship... dare I utter these words... and let you leave me in peace" Xan Zalconee glared and then addressed Specter once more. "Now release me from this cage!"

"Grab a weapon and follow me." Specter ordered as he sent a marine to open up the cages. "Order your men not to fire at us, you'll have plenty of targets." He added.

They all gathered into a formation of his choice and stalked towards the door

* * *

.

Hello everyone! This is my first story that has anything to do with Halo; I hope that this has some possibility. And I hope you all enjoy it, please give me tips, critiques, ideas and any opinions you have.

God bless and thanks for reading.

-Tremble Wolf


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Alternate Reality

Chapter 2: "Assimilation"

Location: Unknown Time/ 22:35 GST

------------- Year: 3073/2553-------------------

"Remind me again, where is the bridge?" Specter asked. He was still unused to the purple lighting and the strange shaped walls. The elite he asked just snarled at him and brushed past him to catch up with the shipmaster. So, he addressed a marine behind him.

"Well sir, from what I've heard, they keep their bridge in the middle of the ship." The marine's voice was still shaky, and Specter could tell the man liked their current truce with these certain aliens not at all. Specter kept on walking, trusting the aliens a little too blindly.

"Do you mind my asking? But where on earth did you come from, did ONI send you?" He asked.

"I would answer that, but I don't know what ONI is." He replied, Specter stopped for a moment in thought. "In fact I have no idea where I am."

His lance was spread around the group so as to protect as many as they could from the other aliens. The leader of the aliens ran ahead and stopped before the next intersection.

"I smell your stench jiralhanae." He declared.

The other elites with him bristled and stood behind him in a wedge with their plasma rifles ready. The marines, confused, also leveled their captured alien weapons. Specter and his crew got the picture and the claws on their arms leapt out.

There was a bark, in the hall to the right, and a glowing ball of plasma landed at the feet of the shipmaster. The Golden armored elite rolled forward and snarled while gripping the hilt of a plasma sword from his belt. A white and blue blade snapped from the hilt in two long spikes. The elite leader pointed in the Brutes' direction and uttered something alien. Before his "men" dashed into the hall and pelted the group of brutes that cluttered the small area.

explosive rounds from brute grenade launchers ricocheted across the ground, walls and cieling causing one of the elites to ran ahead and looked down the corridor while charging the laser built into his suit's arm. He aimed and fired a pure green bolt of energy that cut a round hole into a brute and the one behind him.

After a minute, one brute remained. But instead of running away, he threw down his weapon and charged Beowulf... as Specter had ordered his lance to rejoin him earlier. He knocked him over and started to pound him with his fists. The armor was shattering. But he didn't panic even with his broken ribs. He extracted the claws from his right arm and started to squeeze the brute's neck with it's sharp calws. Snap. The head rolled to the floor.

"Falcon, assist Beowulf!" Specter declared.

Falcon quickly ran over Beowulf and began to help him up. He tried to brush her off of him, but he really needed to help.

"Just try to use your laser Charles." Specter chided towards his wounded lance-mate. He looked towards the alien leader. "Now we really need to take the ship, My men cannont travel through space with damaged suits."

The Shipmaster nodded with an annoyed grunt and ran farther ahead. Obviously wanting to kill the hateful humans that were walking around his ship. He clicked his mandibles and turned the next corner and stood before a locked door.

Charles was now leaning against the wall with his right arm pointed at the door, it glowed green as he waved them out of the way. "Ready grenades!"

The green beam of his laser worked like a split second burst from a blow-torch. It tore a hole right in the middle of the lock and left the door smoldering with slag sliding down from the hole.

On the the elites, or sangheili pulled a blue orb from his belt and squeezed it firmly until it flared. Then he threw it through the hole and knelt.

From the other side, there was a shock wave as unstable plasma exploded furiously from it to further damage the door and the brutes on the other side. And after that, there was a thud as a grenade was thrown from the other side towards them, but bounced off the door and fell back into the control room.

After the explosion a scowling mangy brown-furred brute stepped up to the door and raised his brute shot at the crowd of enemies cramped in the hall. This didn't please the gold alien, he decapitated it with his sword and took the brute shot from him before firing it back at the group of brutes on the other side.

The distraction allowed for Specter to use his powered arm to force the door and allow for more fire. The marines were holding a needler each, and all began to fire. The purple-pink needles flew straight at the main group of brutes and collected on the coats of several of them.

The elites were busy with plasma rifles, each holding two they were pelting the group mercilessly, burning away the flesh of the unprepared, or illprepared brutes.

Specter and his lance mates powered up their lasers and stepped inside before firing at the group and finishing off the last two brutes. The room had a ceiling way higher than that of the halls, and had several columns. In the middle was a podium with accesses down below it and several holo panels floating around the top.

The elites immediately ran towards it, but stopped in their tracks. An armored brute stood on the podium with a large hammer resting in its hands casually. It snarled before leaping upon the closest elite and pounded its head with the hammer before it could respond.

Everyone else began to fire. Needles, plasma bolts, and everyone once in a while a green beam of energy when Specter's lance had recharged their weapons. And whenever they hadn't, they pulled rifles from their backs and fire with their machine guns.

Unfortunately the brute's shields held through the first barrage, it was laughing all the way as it crushed a total of three allies. One elite and two humans fell with ease.

Their alien ally ran forward and feinted with an attack with his sword while he primed a plasma grenade and stuck it to the beast's side. With the flare of the grenade went the brute's overshield, but it was not dead. He doubled back and kicked the brute's hammer hand with his hoof and knocked the hammer out of it grasp while grabbing it and swinging it for the brute's head.

It seemed that he was either lucky, or really good, but the brute managed to dodge the throw and pummel the elite hard enough to throw him several meters away and into the bulkhead.

Annoyed, Specter fired his charged laser once more and drained the brute's recharging shields, and charred a little bit of the brute's armor as well.

He had regained his footing by this time, and swept the hammer up and readied it like a batter ready to swing. Knowing what would happen if the brute wasn't distracted, Specter yelled "Fire" as quickely as he could.

The marines and elites seemed to get the picture and fired at the fasted rate they could. Success, the brute was off balance and injured, he didn't even see the swing that crushed his skull into the floor.

The all relaxed visibly, the elites ran to the controls and started pressing in commands at the holographic terminal.

With a nod at Charles, specter sighed. "We need to guard the exits while they, do whatever. Have Falcon help you out, where's Hannibal?"

"I'm here sir." He rumbled in his low voice.

"Good, I was beginning to get worried. I think these soldiers are out of ammo, see what you can find for them. I'm going to talk to this alien shipmaster." He ordered with a calm setting into his voice as a bulkhead covered the broken door, and the others had the lights in the center turn red; indicating their locked position.

"Is this the bridge?" Specter asked looking around.

"No human, it is not." The alien looked contempously down at him and chuckled.

"Then where is it? And what is this room?" He demanded tiredly.

"This is an auxillery control room, the bridge is occupied, and from here we can vent the ship's atmosphere and deactivate their control of the weapons." The alien also had a tone that carried a hint of resignation.

"Well, can we deactivate this ship and then travel to the bridge?" John inquired.

"Yes, but it will take a few moments." He sighed, "There, I have dealt with the ship, and will open a communication line to your ship.

* * *

"Sir! They've stopped firing!" The weapons officer exclaimed.

"They are attemping to open a line sir." The Comms officer said while he swiveled his chair. "I'm patching it through."

They were all taken aback as Specter's voice issued over the line and through the speakers. "The fighting's all done over here captain."

"What are you doing over there commander?" The captain demanded.

"I thought that the big guns could use a break." He took an audible breath, "And besides that, we made some friends."

"I'll send a shuttle." Replied the Captain, the tone of resignation set in his voice.

"Thank you sir, and uh, send a medic or two."

* * *

He glanced back at the barely concious Beowulf, and shook his head. He hadn't expected the alien to go berserk. He turned to the other side, where the remaining marines sat against the cold metal wall.

He walked over to them, already having gotten out of his armor, and sat next to a marine who was busy handing out his remaining cigars. Specter nodded and spoke up. "The captain is going to need a briefing when we get back."

The shipmaster clicked his foot on the floor, "I just sent the coordinates for your ship to dock." He announced.

Satisfied, Specter relaxed, Hanibal was keeping Beowulf alive and seemed to be relaxed as well. However, Falcon was still on edge, ridgid as always, and standing with a bitter expression on her face.

He shook his head and stood up. "Alien!" Specter declared. "Which way is that docking bay?"

Specter didn't really think he was being rude, but the alien stiffened at being called upon like a dog. Ridgid, like a rod of iron, the alien stalked to confront him.

"I have a name human, even if you are not worthy to say it!" He spat and spread his mandibles in a show of his teeth.

"Uh... Sorry?" Specter raised his shoulders and spread his hands in a calming manner. "Do you think you can tell me what it is? I did help you take back your ship..."

"I tell you only so I am not refered to as a pet or inferior." The Shipmaster clicked his mandibles in a slightly amused manner. "You just convinced me to tell you... quite clever aren't you human? You have amused me, so I will tell you my name. I am Shipmaster Xan Zalconee... If you really need to talk to me, just call me Zalconee."

Xan grunted and brushed past Specter roughly and nearly dropped him to the floor. Appeased, the alien's face took on the appearance of what Specter considered a grin. "This way human."

Hanibal shook his head and exchanged knowing looks with Falcon, who just donned her armor and helped to raise Beowulf. Specter put on his armor, as it was much harder to carry around, than to use its power to help lift it. The marines decided to stay quiet and leaped onto the feet and stamped out their cigars.

The little party was in for a trek, the ship was rather large and the bodies of aliens weren't always easy to step over. Eventually they reached the docking bay, the sounds coming from within were not those that they had expected. Sounds of gunfire and deep throated roars.

The shipmaster stopped in front of the door. "It sounds as if some of them were smart enough to get into pressure suits."

The elite next to him chuckled. "They'll die like the rest of them."

Xan grinned, "Open the door."

"Powering up!" Hanibal said as his laser arm, which was not wrapped around Beowulf's shoulders, glowed a hot emerald green.

The door parted, and the scene inside could only be described as chaos. The merc. crew were all holding assault rifles and firing to nearly useless effect. About twenty brutes were holding cruel weapons with blades attached to them. One kind was a grenade launcher, the other fired spikes about a foot long, and in rapid succession. Specter fired his jets and blew through the open door and into the space between the men and monsters with his machine gun raised.

The marines all ran through the door and found debris they could use as cover and to fire at the brutes. But it was the elites who had the best entrance. They all summersualted into the room, one after the other and leaped to their feet with a glowing blue-flamed grenade in their hands. Some of the grenades impacted on the brutes' bodies and faces and stuck, making their fate marked. They all burned and were thrown by the shockwave of the explosions.

Hanibal reached through the door and fired his laser into the midst of a clump of them, searing off limbs and bodies, letting them bite the dust.

* * *

Specter stood with his gun raised, the explosions cleared, and five or six brutes emerged from the smoke. He immedietly pulled the trigger on his rifle, and released the stream of metal slugs, they seemed to impact the brutes, and only slow them down, one fell, combined fired from the marines and marcs cut down another, his movements seemed sluggish. Three more fell from gunfire just as the last one was getting close.

Specter stood his ground, his life flashed before his eyes, old Christmases from long ago, his training to be a pilot, his defeat of the archon and adventures on the ship.

Just as he though he was going to die, a blue flame stabbed in to the back of the beast and into the heart. An alien face appeared behind the shoulder of the squirming, dying brute.

"I wasn't about to let you die like that." Mocked the shipmaster.

Specter was taken aback. "I'm not dead?" He asked.

"Not really." The alien deactivated its sword and crossed its arms. "Go."

* * *

Sorry it took me so long to get an update. I hope you enjoy. And I also hope everyone had a great Christmas.

-Tremble Wolf


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Alternate Reality

Chapter 3: Hold your breath!

Location: Reach system/ 5:49 GST

Year: 3073/2553

* * *

Specter brushed lint off his green cotton shirt, he was sitting in a comfortable armchair in the crew's lounge of his Talon dropship. The truth is, the alien ship had left, and they were waiting for their jumpship to be powered up for its jump for which it was 90% charged. There was a whoosh of air as the automatic doors parted and the click of shoes as someone came in.

It was Charles, he was wearing a sling and his chest was wrapped up, he also had a large pepperoni stick in his mouth. When John noticed it, he chuckled.

"Trying to quite smoking again?" He scoffed.

"It's not healthy, besides, those vitamin cigaretts are trash." He puased, "Only a quack would reccomend them."

"Of course they are!" Specter proclaimed. "But, why the pepperoni? I just used peppermint sticks and I quit just fine." Specter (John) sighed.

"But how are you going to quit your addiction to peppermint?" Charles countered as he saw Specter pull a peppermint stick from an old cigar box on the side table.

"Caffine." He smirked as he stuck it in his mouth. "I'll just drink coffee till I forget about the peppermint."

"Too late for that." Charles sat down on the nearby couch. "You've always been addicted to coffee, besides, it's just one more reason to have the peppermint to stir in the coffee."

"I guess you're..." Specter was cut off as the comm. talked over him.

"Jump in 5." The voice announced.

Specter pulled the peppermint stick from his mouth leaned back his head. "Oh joy." His voice was tinged with ironic, satirical lightness.

* * *

In an instant, the ship lurched, and Specter felt as if the whole universe was open to him. Every philosophical door was wide open, and he felt as though all the knowledge he ever wanted was in his grasp. In that split second he was at peace.

But the next instant, every possible door was slammed in his face, and he emerged into the boring reality that was no longer fulfilling and left him more than a little dissapointed.

* * *

"Ah man..." Charles complained. "How long do you think we can make it last?"

"I don't know. But we should get those scientists to make that flight take a month, not a second." Specter concluded.

He walked over to the window and loocked out at the world that lay below them. "Hnn. It seems that the coordinates that alien gave us led us somewhere."

"Yeah, looks like his ship is right over there." Charles pointed.

"Wow." Specter smiled. "Their shields didn't protect them from the particle cannon very well huh?"

As they neared the ship, Charles noticed the scorch marks and holes that pockmarked the ship's bulbous nose and grinned. "Too bad we never got close enough for us to open the hanger and use our mech's guns..." He licked his lips. "Heavy guass rifle."

Specter puched him in his good arm. "That gun is mine."

"What? We have more than one." Charles retorted.

"Yeah well I own them all, so, they're my replacements." Specter scoffed.

The comm. opened up again and the captain's voice came through. "Commander John Anderson meet me at the bridge."

John sighed. "Duty calls."

* * *

The doors of the bridge parted with a hiss. Specter stepped to where the captain could see him and saluted.

The captain ignored the salute and started to talk right away. "We recieved a transmission from the planet. It is a human colony that has been overrun. But, what is interesting is the "Covenant's" interest in some object planetside. All satelites have been bombed, and they have begun to dig. But the question is, for what?"

Specter nodded.

"I need you to go down there, medium assets, and raid their command center. Then move on to the dig site and find out what they are doing. Understand?"

"Yes." Specter nodded again and turned tail, but stopped in his tracks. "How many men?"

"Demi-lance, commander. Leave Beowulf behind and one other to watch over, take the other five with you."

* * *

Specter stopped his pacing, his five lance members were lined up in front of the hanger, he and the captain had always had an odd relationship as they somehow managed to command each other... everyone but them found it odd.

"We are hotdropping into a valley two kilometers from their position. Then we will move on to their command center, primary objective: destroy the defenders and vehicle hangers. Then demolish every building that looks important. Castle will provide tactical information while we are on the ground." He stopped in front of Scrapper and waved them off.

* * *

Specter settled in the cockpit of his walking tank and strapped in, then lowered his neuro-helmet and punched the power button on his computer.

"Name, password, and identification code." The computer's voice demanded.

"Commander John Kurt Anderson, Passcode Firebird, Delta 352897." He sighed as the computer unlocked.

The computer's voice came on again as the rumble of the engine came to life. "Reactors: Online. Weapons: Online. Sensors: Online. All systems nominal."

Specter sighed and leaned back in his chair. The ship decended into the atmosphere, the shaking of the ship intensified, and the hangar doors parted slowly with a groan.

His Bushwhacker, a chicken legged, or backwards knee-jointed, angled nosed mech, stalked towards the doors. Its arms stuck out at a 90 degree angle and then down at another 90 degrees to hold a missle rack on the left. And on the right arm, a large gun, with a fat barrel. The left torso had a missile rach that stuck out like a tumor and glinted with fresh missile heads.

The nose held several smaller gun barrels, and all in all, his wepons were listed: One Exstended Range Large laser, One gauss rifle, and two sets of grade fifteen Long range missiles, the fifteen meant that it fired fifteen at once. And with two sets, he could fire thirty missiles at once.

Specter twisted his mech's torso to get a glimpse of his lance. They were all in mechs that ranged, in weight, from 45-55 tons. Two were in bushwhackers like himself, and another two were in a more hightech machine called the ShadowCat. The ShadowCat had an angled, squat head with a forward cockpit and two missile racks built into the sides. Two arms stuck straight out from them, the left arm was slightely bigger and Specter knew what they had housed inside.

Hannibal and Bullseye both housed the LBX 20, a giant close range fighter's favorite. It was basically a shotgun, with the power to shred most vehicles into scrap from one round. Or when fighting a mech of the same weight, (medium) two rounds in the center torso for the fusion reactor to go critical.

They each had one LBX 20, and a large laser.

Falcon was in a taller mech, chicken legged and hawk-nosed, the Stormcrow boasted long rang missiles and large pulse lasers, the only problem was the heat generated by them, the more commonly called Ryoken II was known to overheat and shut down.

The two other bushwhackers werre piloted by Gator and Scrapper.

Specter nodded with satisfaction. They all had huge drop packs strapped onto their mechs for the hot descent. " Drop now!" He ordered as he walked his mech out of the ship and ignited the boosters. His mech fell at a steady rate until the green valley's soft dirt met the claws of his mech's feet.

* * *

There was a groan as the boosters fell from the mech and as he upped the throttled and began to run at a steady pace of 70 km/p/h.

The others were right behind him as he followed the nav. indicator his computer had given. "Okay team." He announced. "Go to passive sensors and move quietly, we want surprise on our side. Castle will be providing new data as we go."

"I'm here commander." Castle's voice came over the line."I'm detecting several large tanks in the area, several clicks to the north. Watch your step out there, the plasma weapons they have could burn your armor in seconds." She added with concern.

"Don't worry Castle, we've got it covered." specter replied. "You all ready op?"

His team all sounded off as they pushed their speed up and went to 80.

* * *

"Sir." Castle inturrepted the silence they had had for several minutes. "They have barricades set up around the base, and several air vehicles in one of the hangars. I'll mark it, but take it out first. I have also counted about ten heavy tanks in the area, along with light armor that is unmanned as yet. I reccomend locking missiles on the tanks and then firing on the hangers."

"Let me handle the tactical maneuvers Castle, You watch for reinforcements." Specter replied annoyed.

They stopped right behind a ridge that separated them from the base and specter dealt out the orders. They were going to split up, the missiles were going to be the first to fire, while the Shadowcats would storm the hangar, the other four mechs would destroy the tanks.

Hannibal and Bullseye hit the jump-jets of their mechs and jumped over the ridge before going to full speed and opening up with their lasers before they were close enough for the full punch of their cannons.

Specter saw fire engulf the building as its integrity was crompomised from the power of the LBX. He focused his attention on locking his missiles onto the first tank he saw. He got the ping from his computer, he was locked. He pulled the trigger and felt his mech rock back as the missiles left their housings. They arched across the expanse and engulfed the wraith in fire. Once the smoke cleared, only a wreckage of twisted blue and purple metal remained, that and a blue flame.

Out of the corner of his eye, Specter saw a blue ball of plasma smash the nose of Falcon's Stormcrow. He smiled as she retaliated with an alpha strike, SRMs and lasers shredded the aliens tank as if it were made of cardboard, Falcon planted a foot on the wreckage and climbed up to stare down a Specter light tank that was peppering her with plasma bolts.

The two Shadowcats came running back, pock-marked and steaming, one had a large tear in the right torso from which coolant leaked. Specter used the arms of his mech to motion for them to fall in behind him. But they were already busy running from something else. Out of the smoke appeared what looked like a purple crab-like mech, only this one had alien infantry swarming all over it.

At once, his computer tagged its IFF as red and he aimed the crosshairs over the large glowing mouth and fired his gauss rifle. He was slitely thrown off alance as the slug was spat from his gun. The depleted uranium shell tore into the metal guards that covered the mouth and into a compartment behind it.

But the machine was not stalled. From the mouth it spat a giant beam of plasma and struck Gator's Bushwhacker in the chest, melting the armor and tearing ino the reactor's shielding.

Gator panicked. "Ejecting!" He shrieked as the internal heat of his mech nearly broiled him.

The cockpit flashed open and he flew out in his chair.

Specter now knew what sort of firepower that thing had, and he quickely thought of a plan. "Hannibal, Bullseye!" He ordered and the Shadowcats dodged over to him.

"Use your cannons to tear the legs, get in close and try to make it immovable." He followed his own idea and fired at the knee joint with his laser and his now reloaded gauss rifle while he locked his missiles onto the tank's main gun. The other lance members got the idea and fired their weapons at the legs.

But Falcon, being a clanner, licked to fight her way. She fired the jets on her Stormcrow and landed on top of the beast and pounded the top with her feet, all the while firing at the turret that graced the top. As Specter and the others tore off one leg, Falcon breached the roof and fired all of her weapons threw the hole one after the other.

After about ten seconds, the enemy mech/tank began to glow blue, as if it were about to go critical. Falcon pounded her way off the roof and jetted away from the iminent explosion, everyone else scattered as well.

* * *

The captain sat in his command chair, watching their probe's view of the ongoing mission.

"Shipmaster, that is one piece of machinery." He stated admiringly. "Do they sell minatures?"

As he watched from space, the whole area flashed bright blue, firery blue.

"Are they dead?" He demanded at the comm.

* * *

"Probably not, captain." The shipmaster replied.

The comm. crackled as the humancaptain's voice came over the line. "You don't sound as disgusted with me as you used to." He puased, "I'll trust your judgement."

""Good." Xalconee clicked his mandibles in thought, before adding. "I know what's burning inside your mouth. You humans were always too curious for your own good. The reason I am not so against your presence is because I have spoken to my leader and he has allied himself to your race."

"Oh..." The captain was quiet.

* * *

"Whoa!" Bullseye cheered. "That was awesome!"

"Falcon, nice kill." Scrapper laughed.

"I've never seen anything like that before." Castle commended. "I guess not all clanners should be wiped out."

"Hey!" Falcon retorted, though everyone knew she was wearing a smile they would never see.

"Specter, there are still some enemies, one tank is trying to run, and there appears to be a few carrier vehicles, APCs perhaps." Castle informed with a more business-like tone.

"We're on it." Specter cheered. "Just get Tac-ops and salvage down here. And find Gator, he's probably unconcious somewhere." He replied as he turned toward the new nav marker and pounded toward it.

* * *

Thank you all for reading. Your reviews have all been helpful. I was hoping to have this update yesterday, but I spent it all doing homework. So... I hope you liked it.

-Tremble Wolf


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: New Rivals, Old Rivals.

Location: Dante Inner Sphere, Lyran controlled space.

Date: 3073 AD. February 2nd 20:54 GST.

Word of Blake jump ship: Destiny

Disclaimer: I don't own mechwarrior, or Halo. Microsoft does. And er. Bungie gets the credit for Halo.

* * *

Preceptor Jerome Trent paced the deck of his ship. "Where did this infidel ship go?" He glared at the subordinate that had clasped his hands behind his back and stood rigid to face him. 

"Sir. We have input the exact coordinates we received from the satellite; Blessed Blake has made this easy, for we shall intercept them soon." He smiled pleasantly as the appeased commander relaxed.

"That thorn in our side will be ours at last; that mercenary scum will pay for all their obstinacies." He paused. "Just like the Wolf's Dragoons."

The subordinate bowed.

"Make the jump." The Preceptor ordered as he turned to face the window.

"Blake's will be done." The subordinate stated as he turned on his heel and walked off.

The large jump ship accelerated to FTL speeds and entered the same anomaly that transported Specter to the alternate reality. But the WOB ship had a more awkward exit, one that included a solar wind "storm" and debris. As soon as the jump ship had entered normal space there were alarms and quick orders sent throughout all the ships connected to the jump ship.

"Sir!" One of the officers yelled above the others. "There is a strange anomaly, a distortion in space of the port bow! An object is near it, it appears to be a human!"

"Pick it up." The Preceptor ordered as he brushed the front of his red robe out of the way.

One of the drop ships detached from the jump ship and flew toward the object of interest. Once it was close, the hangar door of the spherical Hrothgar opened and several techs in space suits attached to life-lines floated toward the human.

From the nearby view-screen the Preceptor watched as they grappled with a tall, large, green armored figure that had the built of a colossus. They finally tethered it and brought it slowly back into the ship. Once they had piloted the drop ship back into the locks of the jump ship, an onboard vision came in on the screen. The newly captured figure was in the medical ward and they were busy trying to take the armor off. But as hard as they tried, they could not de-active the energy shielding that surrounded it, so as to take off the plating.

In annoyance the Preceptor finally intervened. "If it is Blake's will he will wake. Leave him be!"

The doctors shrugged and left the room, completely empty. One of the techs appeared on the monitor with his report. "Honored one," he began, "he appears to be alive, but he was out in the void for a long time, several hours I would think. But… his air supply lasted him long enough for us to rescue him."

"How is his air now?" Jerome asked.

"As soon as we had brought him into a stabilized atmosphere his suit vented the remaining air and began to cycle a fresh supply. He will be fine in a couple hours." The tech smiled and then walked back to a large thirteen meter mech that stood behind him, an Atlas, one of the great assault mechs of the time. The Atlas was a humanoid machine that had a skull-like head with red eyes that the pilot used as windshields. The arms housed gauss rifles and Particle projector cannons. The Atlas was also heavy enough to equip a small amount a missiles, small lasers, and an Anti-missile system, simply called AMS.

The tech was grinning at his leader. "Your primary mech is fully repaired from your last encounter with the mercs. Do you like the new color scheme?"

The Atlas was painted black, with blood-red detailing and a hand-print on the thighs and left shoulder that looked like it was placed with blood dripping down it.

The Preceptor grinned as well. "Well done."

* * *

"Hello? How many fingers am I holding up?" Cortana's worried voice woke the Chief from his dazed state. "Finally!" she complained. "I don't know where we are, but this is not a Covenant ship." 

"How long?" The chief paused. "Aren't you supposed to be on the Dawn?"

"Technically, but I couldn't let you die in space." Her tone changed to one that held worry. "After you fell unconscious, you were about to fall out of the ship again, and I entered your suit as you slipped by. That is before using your momentum to get through the portal to here…"

He didn't say anything; after all she was in his head. Instead he swung his legs over the edge of the bed; it creaked terribly, and walked toward the door. But as he looked at the emblem on the door, a red open hand, he stopped.

"Cortana, what is that?"

"I'm not sure, maybe it is a pirate symbol, or from one of the rebel factions. But if it is either of those, we need to get out of here fast." The urgency in her voice was unnecessary because he already felt his stomach knot not from fear, but from annoyance at the prospect of another war.

He approached the door, but it did not open, he had to force it in his own way before Cortana had the chance to find a way to unlock it.

"I am a very valuable part of this team. Use me for what I'm good at." She commented.

"Ok. Where do I go?" The chief waited in the empty hall until she replied.

"We are in a large installation, it looks like one large station with multiple ships docked on it, we are in one of them. Head this way, I'll give you directions on the way, there seems to be a docking bay for some fighters over at this marker."

The chief mentally nodded and ran at full speed; he moved like a blur to the end of the hall and kicked off the wall to make a turn at full speed. He had a clear shot so far, being merely fifty meters from the door, he stopped. Thus far, he had only encountered a few people, they looked like doctors and techs, but their alarmed cries didn't slow him down one mille-second.

He dashed to the door; it was locked, and sounded very busy on the other side. Machines and people were working loud and hard and didn't notice that he had forced the door. The large hangar had a metal door cutting it off from space, and there were four fighters of different shapes and sizes and designs lined up in front of it.

John looked at the pad of paper nailed hastily by the door and read it. There was a duty roster showing who was on duty and when they signed out. And there was a list of the fighters and the reports on them. John took them down and let Cortana absorb the information before quickly placing the sheets back before someone noticed their absence.

"Chief, we won't have to wait long; they are going off duty in fifteen minutes. Also, if you want my advice on which fighter to steal," Cortana paused, "Take the one at the end. The streamlined one with the VTOL engine installed."

"Why?"

"That one, is faster, more fuel efficient, kept in the best condition, easiest to keep that way, has better weaponry, has anti-radar systems, and anti-missile systems… Why would a human fighter have anti-missile systems?" Cortana mused.

"Only because they fight other humans, the Covenant doesn't use that technology." The chief confirmed. "They are an enemy."

"Agreed, we need to find a way to sneak out of here and link up with a comm. Buoy and inform High com." The chief could hear the tension in her voice.

"Calm down… They are packing up." He said as much for her and for himself.

The techs finished with their work, signed the roster and left the room with the lights off and an unlocked door.

"Get over to that fighter and get in fast!" Cortana complained and groaned inwardly as she could not control his movements.

The chief was beside the fighter in moments; he popped the seal of the cock-pit's shield and climbed in. He inserted Cortana into the fighter's computer and waited for her analysis.

"Nice fighter. Nice design." She hummed. "Overriding security and unlocking all controls. And uh, don't power up until I tell you."

The chief followed her instructions and she ordered him to unplug the cable from a helmet that sat on the arm of the command couch and plugged it into the back of his own helmet. He waited for a few more seconds until Cortana urged him to power up while the hangar door opened to reveal space.

The VTOL turbine spouted fire and lifted the fighter off the ground. The chief then pushed the joystick forward and shot from the hangar into the cold of space. It was then that Cortana got a good look at the station.

"Oh my!" She exclaimed. "That is not a station; it is a giant ship, all engines and clamps to carry other ships!"

"Get a communiqué ready, I'm searching for the nearest comm. Buoy to deliver the message. Where are we?"

"We are in what was left of Reach after it was detonated by our NOVA." He frowned on the console. "They didn't let me tell you earlier, but now that they think you are dead…" She smirked, "Oh well."

"Are there any probes?" He asked hopefully.

"Actually yes, ever since the Covenant left this system, we replaced probes and spy satellites so we could still detect Covenant movements." Cortana linked to the nearest Comm. buoy and sent the message under the UNSC E-band to the brass at High Com.

"How far can we get with this?" The chief asked.

"We cannot leave this system." Cortana replied sadly. "This fighter is for short range/distance fighting an atmosphere or in orbit. And it does not carry a slip-drive."

"Alright, land us on one of these large asteroids and send our coordinates for pick-up with that message."

"I already sent it."

The chief leaned his head back. "Then send another message after it with our location and request for pick-up."

Cortana shrugged on the console and made it look like she was throwing an envelope toward the buoy. Then she piloted the fighter and made sure that it would not leave the spot she landed, and turned off all non-essential elements of the craft.

* * *

Back on the mercenary drop ship Specter was having a relaxing time. Or what he might call relaxing after his recent fight with the unknown. The salvage turned up a few odd items; plasma weaponry for one, and the strange alien metal they salvaged from the wreck. 

Gator had been found, in a strange state; he had been hanging from a cliff edge by his parachute and hadn't had the heart to disconnect the cables. Of course, now there were two injured crew that came from his own personal team. The alien was quite impressed by the performance of Specter's lance and recently invited them aboard his ship so they could tell him all about.

Specter was walking down the hall in the direction of the jump ship's hangar; it carried a civilian shuttle that he could use to fly into the alien docking bay.

He chose Falcon and Hannibal to come with him, Hannibal he had known the longest, and Falcon was undisputedly his most talented pilot. He wasn't far from the hangar, the jump-ship was not as "professional" as his ship, and it bugged him somehow. The square, angular, nondescript walls of the metal hallway were silent as he was one of the few people traversing through that particular hall.

As he passed through the sliding metal doors to the hangar he caught a glimpse of Falcon sitting in the pilot's seat of the shuttle and Hannibal sitting in one of the leather chairs that occupied the back. The shuttle was exactly what it looked like; a shuttle, for carrying people short distances through space. It was a rounded, angular shaped vehicle that looked rather expensive.

Once Specter came in through the rounded door, he looked at Falcon and shook his head, "no".

She huffed and got up and sat next to Hannibal, who held the old look of "I told you so." She didn't like it, and punched him in the shoulder.

Specter ignored their fight as he sat comfortably in the pilot's seat. "Right where I belong." He thought. He powered up the shuttle, and the alarm went off in the hangar. Pretty soon Castle's voice came over the line; "Hangar three, warning, bulkhead doors opening in five." The whole room was cleared, and the doors groaned open at a slow pace.

Once the door was completely open, Specter gunned the shuttle's engines and jetted from the jump ship. "Lose your lunch!" He screamed happily as he pulled a loop outside the ship.

The bulbous alien vessel came into view, and he steered for the open hangar that graced its starboard side. As he neared the ship, he noticed how some of the scarring had been repaired, and so fast.

He flew into the hangar gently, and it was closed off from space by a plasma shield. He landed and settled the shuttle with a little rocking on purpose, and got a grimace from his friends.

The circular door popped its seal and opened with a hiss. Specter stepped out and looked around at the empty hangar and sighed. Half a second later, he was flanked by Hannibal and Falcon. He stepped toward the only door that didn't have a red light indicating it was locked and peered into the empty hall.

"Come on!" He complained. "Anybody home?"

There was a high-pitched chattering noise behind him; Specter whirled around to see what it was. What met his eyes made him jump, what he saw was what the Covenant called Huragok, an engineer. The purple blob of jelly was floating on a strange bladder looking item, and making happy noises as it repaired the wall with its hands, or what could be called hands. They spread into tiny cilia and worked on a minute level.

The creature ignored him, even as he poked it with his finger in the side. Specter laughed, quite disgusted. "What is that thing?"

While he was enjoying himself by tickling the engineer's back, an annoyed elite came from behind him and shouted after him.

"Stop that!" He ran up to meet them. "Don't do that, your hands are dirty, and it distracts him."

"Are you here to lead us to the Shipmaster?" Hannibal inquired.

"Follow me." The alien spat.

Specter and the others followed their guide into a gravity lift at the end of an adjoining hall. He floated up first, and the others followed. Specter exclaimed sharply as the weird sensation brought him to a higher level. They continued following him until he pointed to a door to their right. The door parted for them and they walked into what looked like a common room. There were several couches, designed for alien shapes, potted plants, and one occupant who held a glass in his hand.

"Greetings, sit down." Xalconee motioned to the couch that sat across from the table in front of his.

Specter opened a pouch in his bag and pulled an aluminum can out and set it on the table, it was silver, red and blue colored with a title that read, "Red Bull."

Xalconee snarled in distaste. "Please don't drink that foul-smelling beverage here."

Specter shrugged disappointedly and placed it back in his bag. "Anything I can drink?"

He pointed at the glass pitcher on the table that had several empty glasses sitting there. "Clean water."

With a grunt, Specter poured them all a glass of water and took a sip from his own. "Any particular reason you invited us aboard the ship?"

"My leader has made peace with your kind. And if he can, I will do my best." Xalconee struggled to say. "I wanted to congratulate you on your raid."

Specter smiled proudly. "The Snake Div. of the Northwind Highlanders is the best of the best." He looked at Hannibal, "Right?"

"The very best." He replied.

"But my main question was where you got those vehicles; I have never seen their like." Xalconee inquired.

Specter leaned forward in his seat. "Neither have you seen their equal." He uttered proudly. "I always keep my gear it tip-top shape with the best weapons and armor money can buy."

* * *

Preceptor Jerome sighed from his chair. "Where did the subject go?" 

His assistant frowned. "He took one of the Star Mantas… But we have been unable to find him."

"He couldn't have gotten far!" Jerome demanded.

"No, he couldn't, it is just a short range fighter. He has enough fuel to be several thousand kilometers from here." The assistant worried his hands. "Perhaps even as far as the edge of the system."

Jerome stood and stared down the assistant. "I want every ship to scan the system. Every moon, planet, and asteroid must be searched. Blake had us find that man for a reason, we cannot let him go."

* * *

Meanwhile, the chief waited in his ship, still on the asteroid. He sat there for hours until Cortana excitedly started to talk from the computer. "They sent a reply!"

* * *

-I know this was a lame chapter, but I had to incorporate these in sometime. So, I hope this was a decent chapter. If not, send your tips and constructive criticism so I can fix the chapter. And now this has been edited with the separations in place. I hope this is better. 

-Tremble Wolf


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

Alternate Reality:

Chapter 5:

Location: Unidentified system:

Date/Time: 3073/2553. Mar. 5th. 13:00 GST

Disclaimer: I don't own.

I promote the use of turn signals and seat belts. )

* * *

Specter ran down the hall, his ship's interior wasn't noticed, all he saw was his watch: he was late.

Specter was late for the meeting that he himself trudged quickly on until he arrived at the door of his quarters, once he entered he grabbed his laptop and continued to run at a more careful pace. The doors to the crew's lounge parted with a hiss not quite as loud as the breathing Specter was giving his lungs.

He promptly collapsed neatly into his leather chair and set his computer on the table in front of him.

"Hello team." He panted. "We're here because we have a business transaction in process with the aliens."

Buzz laughed. "How could they pay us?"

"They don't use our money!" Another interjected.

"True, true." Specter pointed. "But money isn't everything after all."He waved his hands about.

"Well then what did they offer?" Falcon asked with an interested manner. She was quite confused, Specter had only ever done one charity mission.

"Technicians who don't need payment!" Specter beamed. "Only they still need to be fed."

"You want aliens to work on technology they don't understand?" Beowulf asked incredulously.

"It's worth a try." He opened his laptop. "We are going to bring them to Terra, and make sure they meet safely with their superiors."

"I thought they hated us." Hannibal explained. "And now they want us to be their body guards?"

"I think that was what they wanted." Specter sighed. "We offered to have their ship jump with us, but they figured we were too slow."

"Meaning..." Someone continued.

"Meaning that I told them they would have to hitch a ride with us or they would arrive there before us."

"Ok?" Shredder took a gulp of his coffee.

"Alright, sit tight and stay sharp, we'll be there in two weeks."

* * *

After the first jump, they sat in their ship waiting for the jump ship to be fully charged with its solar sails. It took a couple days, but after that they took their second jump and landed in the Sol system. The first thing Xalconee said when he saw Specter shocked him.

"How can you travel in such a depressing manner?"

Specter just shrugged. "You get used to the disappointment of losing all that understanding."

Xalconee grunted and closed the line.

"He's sure happy." Beowulf chuckled, by now fully recovered.

It wasn't long before the alien opened a line again. "Human, I need you to fly ahead and announce me as an ally."

Specter waved his hand dismissively and channeled the orders through to Castle, and the ships' captain. "We're working on it."

Falcon stiffened as Earth drew near. "Terra." she muttered reverently.

As they drew even closer, a mar was shown on the surface of Africa. "What happened there?" Hannibal asked as he shaded his eyes to get a better look.

The ships' captain's voice came over the line. "I can't get any closer with this ship, there's too much wreckage in orbit. You'll have to take a drop ship."

"That will be fine." Specter sighed. He opened a channel to Xalconee. "We are going to have to land. We'll contact whoever is in charge and indicate your help."

"That will do." His deep voice replied.

Specter ran over to the captain of his drop ship, "Detach from the jump ship and land at any major city of your choosing." He clapped the captain of the"Skippy" on the shoulder and turned to go to his quarters.

"Get organized, we can't be the sloppiest mercenaries around! We are seeing important people look your best!"

They all rolled their eyes and left the bridge as they prepared for their arrival. The elongated, rectangular like ship rumbled as the clamps that connected it to the jump ship and the ship drifted away in the micro-gravity.

The engines burned and the ship sped towards the blue and green globe.

* * *

Back on the bridge, the communications officer was holding a hand to his ear, and waving the other at the captain.

"Sir! We are receiving a transmission from the planet!"

The captain sighed. "Patch it through, Slow our descent."

On the view screen, an old man wearing an untold number of medals on a navy uniform greeted them warmly. "Unidentified ship, identify yourself or be blown out of the sky."

"This is captain Don Jekarte of the Northwind Highlanders sponsorship program." He turned around to get a view of his communications officer. He gave him a "thumbs up". "We would like to speak to the highest bidder." He laughed.

"As glad as I am that you're human, I have to wait until you are identified as friendly before letting you land." Admiral Hood crossed his arms. "Give me proof of your allegiance to the UNSC and we'll let you land, we are wary of the return of the URF."

"What if someone else puts in a good word for us?" The captain asked calmly thinking in his mind. "This is like dealing with the loyalists."

"Whose word is that?" Hood asked patiently.

"We are here on behalf of a friendly alien ship, they hired us to come to you and ask for permission to land." The captain was about to say more when Xalconee came in on the other line.

"I have spoken to the shipmaster of the Shadow of Intent, our leader Rtas Vadumee, and he has ordered me to form up with his fleet." He stated with a sigh of relief. "Seems as though we no longer need your assistance to come close. And as such, we sent a message to their leaders informing them of your support; you should be allowed to land."

"Thanks." The captain closed the channel and went to the other one, with Hood waiting patiently on the other end. "Can we land?"

"Your company is not on any of our records, we will need you to land at these coordinates and speak with the Office of Navel Intelligence before we let you go." Hood stated as he brushed his chin.

"We will comply, Jekarte out." The captain pointed at the picture of earth on the screen. "Bring us in."

* * *

Specter finished the knot of his black silk tie, with white stripes, and combed his short blond hairs before stepping out into the hall. He walked as fast as possible to reach the elevator that would take him to the bridge, and silently rode up to where the captain sat waiting.

"So, what's happened?" He inquired.

"We are landing, without payment. And we are going to be questioned, and I haven't seen you look nice for a long time." The captain replied with an annoyed expression.

"No payment!" Specter demanded. "We are the most respected division of the Northwind Highlanders! No payment?"

"No payment." The captain responded peacefully. "Technically we didn't do the job we were hired to do."

Specter grunted in annoyance and leaned against the wall. "The sooner we land the better."

The ship rumbled as it entered the atmosphere, and lasted for several warm minutes. That is when they slowed their descent and initiated the burn on their ventral jets to slow and stabalize their landing.

Specter looked out a nearby window. The sight that greeted his eyes didn't impress him as much as he expected, even though it was pretty cool.

What he saw was a large number of heavy tanks surrounding the ship, and behind them were marines with rocket launchers, and around them were light vehicles with gauss rifles mounted on the back. Every gun was aimed at the ship.

Specter smiled, wishing he could show off his arsenal as they had. But he walked over to the personel exit door that was on the bridge's level and opened the door to get a fresh view. Beowulf looked on from behind him, as well as the rest of his two lances. He stepped down and enjoyed the feel of tarmac under his feet, all that time in space had begun to annoy him.

He walked toward the obvious entrance to the nearby building, a black polished tower that gave the place a sense of power. The guard parted to form an aisle still pointing their guns in his face, but they didn't mind much, they just continued on to the doorway.

They were quickly addressed by a man with the two bars of a captain, and were led into the building by an armored guard.

"Follow me." The Captain ordered. To which they all had no say.

Specter sighed, and gave off a sharp salute. "Lead the way."

They were marched through the door, and led past the rather surprised receptionist and to an elevator at the end of a nearby hall.

When the elevator doors parted, it revealed a large room. But the captain only allowed himself to go down with two guards and two of Specter's crew.

The second trip had Specter included, with Hannibal and three guards. He didn't want to rub them the wrong way, especially because they had shotguns in their hands and a ready trigger finger. After a long ascent the doors parted to reveal the fortieth floor, one with painted hallways and offices on all sides, they were led into a nearby office that was more friendly on the outside.

Specter marveled at the change as he stepped into one of them; the room had a lone metal table and a chair on either side. But that area was closed off, the other side had a waiting area with chairs and guards.

In the questioning room was a nondescript man in a normal suit, sitting in one of the metal chairs with a pad of paper in one hand and an expensive polished black pen in the other.

Specter was ushered in, and sat down in the chair opposite the man. One guard stood in the corner behind him, and the interrogator began to talk.

"Let's begin with your name." He smiled.

* * *

"Cortana, are you sure they got our message?" The Chief wearily asked.

She didn't answer, for a long time. "Incoming message." She happily announced.

"So they did get it." He mumbled. "Play it."

"One moment, here, it is not an audio file. But a text, putting it on screen." She replied.

**-----Reply to Cortana--UNSC Shipboard AI Identity confirmed.-----**

**---Text encripted--- Access granted.---**

**"This is admiral Hood. High Comm. has recieved your message of your reports. **

**And we encountered an unidentified group of mercenaries.**

**They are not the group you mentioned, these rebels you found are not listed amonsgt our records either. **

**They are a possible threat, stay away from them.**

**We are sending a ship, expect it to arrive in eight hours."**

**-------Message end----**

"Well that's interesting." The chief stated.

"Odd, even if they sent a ship as soon as they recieved our message a ship wouldn't arrive for several days." Cortana mused.

"How can they get here that fast?" The Chief wondered.

"I'm not sure, maybe they had help from the elites, or maybe they discovered something Forrunner. I don't know." She replied. "Just try to get some rest."

The Chief just grunted in reply, she knew he would do no such thing.

* * *

"Let's begin with your name." The interrogator asked with a smile.

"Hmmm, that's a hard one. My name is... My name is, John, John Kristov Anderson." Specter replied in his sarcastic, irritating manner.

"Okaay..." He wrote it down. "What is your affiliation, UNSC, United Rebel Front... Etc."

"None, or all, I go to the highest bidder. I am a mercenary, of the Northwind Highlanders; one of the most prestegeous mercenary companies that exists." Specter waved his hand in a smooth motion.

"I see..." He scribbled down "Northwind Highlanders... Mercenary." "Are you a threat to our race?"

"No, The Northwind Highlanders has always been known one of the more noble companies, we turn down politically messy jobs." He paused, "Like fighting for usurpers, or for causes we think are unjust."

"I see."

Annoyed, Specter sighed. "Alright, who are you, date of birth, allegiance, ID number? Tell me what you want."

"Do you really want me to answer all those questions?"

"No, not **all** of them." He smirked.

"I didn't think so, we just was to be sure you are not a threat." He answered, leaning back in his chair.

"Then don't make us one." Specter hinted. "We _are_ top-notch mercenaries; we make sure we can complete even the toughest missions."

"Was that a threat?" The interrogator raised his eye-brows.

"It is if you take it as one, but it may just be a warning." Specter clasped is hands together.

"You don't look intimidating."

"Just hire me, find out."

"Do you have any experience." The interrogator set his pen back to his pad.

"Yeah, I captured an enemy ship. And raided a Covenant base, I have enough combat experience to carve out my own nation... not that I would" Specter said the last part lower as he noticed the dissaproval of the interrogator.

"Report the damages."

"On the ship, I'd estimate about a hundred and fifty infantry kills, before the decks were depressurized. And on the planet, I'm not sure which, we destroyed ten heavy tanks, fifteen light vehicles, and one crab-like mech." Specter proudly stated.

"A Scarab?"

"That's what they're called?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, we destroyed a scarab." He tapped his fingers on the table.

"How, inside, or outside?"

"Who would board a thing like that?" Specter asked incredulously.

"Then we know how it was done. It must have taken a lot of firepower to kill that thing."

"We were expecting a large explosion as well." He waved his hands to emphasize. "And after about twenty minutes the thing went limp and we took cover. That explosion was so large it leveled the rest of the base."

"Well." The interrogator released a long breath. "It seems that you aren't hostile, and you have relayed the events truthfully according to the account of the Shipmaster. So, We'll let you go."

"Do you know of any hotels in the area?" Specter sighed.

"On your way out, ask the receptionist for a tourist map." The man seemed bored and ignored the idea of giving a helpful answer.

Specter stood and cracked his back with several loud snaps. Satisfied, he stepped out of the questioning room and followed the guard out.

When they had taken the elevator again, they saw the same receptionist sitting behind her desk. Specter, or John, stepped up to the desk cheerfully and grinned. "Do you, by any chance, have a map of the area?"

She glanced at the clock. "_Just five minutes, just five minutes before I can leave."_

Specter waited, his this but trained fingers tapping the counter like he was keying commands into a keyboard.

"Yes, we have a map." She said suddenly as if she had grown tired of his tapping, and pulled out a small folded pamphlet from a drawer in her desk and handed it to him.

"Any hotels you'd recommend?" He studied the map, until he got it right-side-up.

"Well there's the Grand Marlin hotel, but it'll cost you." She tapped her fingers, eager to leave and be done with her shift.

"I'll try that, thanks." He walked out of the building and glanced at the guard captain. "Any chance I could call a taxi?"

The guard whispered something into his walkie. "It'll be a couple minutes." He replied.

The receptionist speed-walked out of the building and ignored them all.

"She's in a hurry." Beowulf commented.

"I'm in a hurry too." Specter replied. "I would love to stay in a hotel instead of my bunk."

* * *

After another five minutes, a taxi pulled around the corner. The Australian driver looked nervously around at all the marines; but dutifully stopped by the curb.

Specter grabbed Beowulf and Hannibal and brought them into the back of the taxi. "Grand Marlin." He ordered and buckled his seat belt.

The drive was interesting enough, they got a good view of a river, and drove over an impressive bridge. And after another fifteen minutes, five of them being stuck in traffic, they arrived at the not-so-busy hotel.

They were let out and asked to pay. "That'll be a twenty mate."

Specter pulled out twenty C-bills and offered them.

"What's this? I aint tak'n that." The taxi driver complained. "I work for a living."

Specter was dazed, he hadn't figured there would be a money problem. "Fine, if you take us back you can have my watch; it's a Rolex."

"Fine." The taxi driver allowed them back in and drove them back to the base.

Shredder leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "What happened?"

"They don't accept our money." Specter shook his head sadly and removed his watch before handing it to the driver.

* * *

Sorry it took so long. This is another story chapter, but there'll be some action in the next one don't worry. Please, give me your tips, and critiques, I need them to make this readable and legible (even though it isn't handwritten.)

This did get them a little farther and towards more interesting events later on. So, live with it for a short time.

Thanks.

-Tremble Wolf


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Buckle up Dorothy

Location: Earth, Sol system. UNSC controlled space.

------Australia, Sydney, ONI complex.

Date/time: 3073/2553 AD, Mar. 19th. 18:27 GST (galactic standard time.)

Disclaimer: I don't own mechwarrior, Halo, or anything else here.

* * *

Specter dropped his bag onto the concrete. "Guys..." He stammered, trying to find the right words. But they seemed to elude his grasp. "We're not in Kansas anymore."

"What are you talking about?" Falcon crossed her arms, annoyed because she didn't know what he was quoting.

"We are not in the inner sphere." He replied, rubbing his wrists and pacing a couple feet in either direction.

"Then where are we? Back in time?" Hannibal suggested.

"No, not even close. If we were the Star League would already have been forged." His face caught a more thoughtful expression. "We are in an, an alternate dimension; a different universe, a parallel universe."

"How did we get here?" Buzz brushed his cropped hair and asked with a confused expression.

"I'm not sure, but don't you remember what the captain said about a strange reading?" Specter asked, suddenly catching on to another idea.

"I kind of remember." Bullseye traced his finger along a tattooed maze on his arm.

"I think there's some kind of doorway, right outside Outreach, that leads to this universe." He took grabbed his bag and started to run toward the ship. "I think I know how to get home!"

"That's all just a theory." Beowulf insisted.

Specter turned and ran back, and explained in gasps. "But that's how we travel! That's what the KF drive does! Only it usually brings us back into our universe thirty light years away!"

"But this time it... left us here? In this universe at the exact same coordinates? That's quite a pirate jump." Beowulf mulled it over.

"But it makes sense doesn't it?" Specter yelled as he continued running back toward the ship.

The rest of the group looked at each other, trying to decide what to do. Finally they all sprinted back to the ship, leaving a baffled guard at the door of the ONI complex.

* * *

Once they were inside the ship, Specter ran to the bridge and over to the comm. station. "Patch a channel to the admiral again."

The comm officer sighed and clicked a few keys on the board. "Coming online. Now."

The admiral sighed wearily. "What is it now?"

"I have a proposal." Specter began, tapping his fingers on the board barely missing the keys.

"And what proposal is that?" Lord Hood brushed his shoulders and rubbed clean one of the medals that graced his navy uniform.

"I will hunt down, or explore, or do whatever you need if you'll develop a lithium-fusion reactor for our jumpship. We have schematics on board, but this would be a major help."

"You'll sign on that? We only have a few shipyards left, and to build something like that will take time. But if you agree, I have a mission for you, or several." Hood's eyes brightened only a little bit, but he still would not smile.

"I'll sign."

* * *

The Talon class drop ship of Specter's crew rumbled violently as it escaped the atmosphere of the cradle of humanity. And soon the veil lifted and the black sky came into view, dotted with stars and seeming completely empty, with the exception of all the wreckage of destroyed ships and defense stations.

Falcon leaned against the railing of the bridge's view-port. "What is the mission?"

Specter, who stood beside her holding a mug to his lips, smiled. "A rescue mission."

She looked surprised, but didn't let much emotion escape. "Is this another charity mission? Like the one your crew tells me about?"

Specter sighed. "Hesperus II was not my favorite place. And that mission was almost a waste of time."

"So this is not for free." She concluded, tossing her emerald eyes back at the stars.

"No." He took another gulp of coffee and left her at the glass. He stopped by the captain's chair and nodded before taking the elevator down to the crew lounge.

It was in the crew lounge where he found the rest of his team busy at a game of old sayings. This one was an updated version of the old "Wise and Other Wise". Buzz was holding all the paper slips and shuffling them.

Buzz read the first one. "An old Kuritan saying: A farmer blames... his hoe." He looked around the room. "Who guesses that one? I've got one over there? Specter your vote doesn't count."

He continued. "A farmer blames his donkey." Again he lifted his eyes to see haw many people voted for it. "Ah, I've got two."

Specter left, he had already played with that card before, and wasn't interested in the rest. Instead he walked over to the corner, where a couple of weight machines and free weights sat unattended. He lifted a thirty kilo weight in either hand and started to curl.

* * *

The master chief of course, waited patiently until Cortana announced that the air in the ship was running low, and that he would have to recycle from then on out.

Disappointed he felt his suit seal, and began to break to gross tasting recycled air. "When did you say that they would arrive?"

Cortana's shape lifted its shoulders and hands. "Right about now?"

At that instant they saw what looked like a flash of lightening and a large shape was spat from it in the shape of a huge ship.

"Cortana, what am I looking at?" The Chief noticed that the insignia on the alien ships' hulls were different.

"I'm not sure."

* * *

"We've got a signal coming in!" The captain exclaimed over the comm.

On the bridge a voice came over the line, hissing and cruel. "Those who dare to defy the blessed Blake will be crushed into dust."

Specter ran onto the bridge feeling absolutely helpless. He was not a fighter pilot, and he was not a ship captain. He was a ground based unit. "Just get the objective and hide!"

The captain shook his head as the ship rumbled with fire as particle cannons and lasers burned into the armor of the dropships. "We can't do that, the jumpship needs two days before it can make another jump."

"What can I do?"

* * *

"Chief! It looks like those newcomers are under fire." Cortana exclaimed. "We've conserved enough fuel, hit the gas help them!"

"How do we know that they are our friends?" The Chief wisely cautioned.

"Because the message we got came with an ID tag for that ship! It's a friendly."

He nodded and started the fighter once more and lifted off of the asteroid. While Cortana all the while urged him to steer for the ship's docking bay.

* * *

"Sir! We've got a contact, it is confirmed as friendly. And it is heading right for the Skippy's mechbay!" The Nav. officer yelled above the fire of weapons.

"Open the bay doors, and have the techs clear a spot for it." He ordered with his heart racing. "This is not a warship!"

The chief engineer nodded and channeled the order down. And Specter got his own idea. "I'll cover him!"

He ran down to the mech bay and jumped into the cockpit of his one and only Templar. A huge eighty-five tonned beast that he had equipped with two gauss rifles, and one third light gauss.

Once the cockpit was sealed, he ordered the bay doors to open. "Tie a tether to the mech!" He had no desire to fall out.

The bay doors groaned open, revealing the precious cargo within. Specter walked out, and floated outside of the ship so he could fire at the enemy. Three harsh vibrations reverberated through his mech and through his bones as he fired his gauss rifles.

Three slugs screamed toward the leading enemy dropship and impacted on the nose with devastating effect. The power died, and the ferro-glass shield of the ship cracked and depressurized violently ice and mist and men flew from the open bridge of the enemy ship.

"One down!" He screamed.

"Thanks for the assist." The captain's relieved voice echoed over the comm. Let the contact in and let's brief him. It seems that this was the only Word of Blake ship in the system, likely still looking for him."

"Yes sir!" Specter aimed his mech, and used his jump-jets to float gently back into the hangar.

* * *

In the meantime the Chief was burning hard and entered a steady drift that carried him directly into the bay. And once the room was pressurized the seal on the cockpit popped and he climbed out of the fighter.

The techs in the bay were grimy, but they were still cheering as the awe inspiring sight of the Spartan dropped to the deck.

John heard the amazed exclamations and nearly smiled under his helmet, but he could not; not after all he had been through. Instead, he quietly walked down the aisle of techs and toward the door.

"Wait!" A voice called after him.

John looked up at a large machine, 14 meters tall and painted for a jungle. It had large guns attached to its arms and barrels sticking out of its chest, with two spikes along the tops of its shoulders.

A man climbed down the ladder that led to the open cock-pit at the top, and dropped to the floor with a click as his magnetic soles connected.

"Wait." He called again and ran up to him, looking up at the greatest hero humanity had

Specter shook his massive gauntleted hand with a grin. "I'm glad you made it out of there. I'm John."

The "real" John smiled this time, and spoke through his helmet. "No you're not."

Taken aback, Specter went blank like a computer that had received contradictory information. "Oh!" He exclaimed catching on."You're a John too aren't you?"

"Spartan 117, who is in charge here?"

Specter thought about it for a moment. "You mean the captain, or the one who hired the captain?"

The chief stood impassively, waiting for Specter to answer him.

"Okaay... I'm the leader, but it's a hard call sometimes. ." Specter replied. "Follow me."

"You sure?" John 117 was confused, he hadn't expected a response like the one he had been given.

"Of course I'm sure. Now follow me." Specter shook his head and walked out of the mech bay and in the direction of the crew's lounge.

He pointed at the couch, and sat down in his arm chair. "I'm sorry my friend, but I'm afraid you'll be with us for two days until we can head back to get comfortable, get some rest, and some not so fresh or good tasting food."

"Thanks." The chief sat in the comfortable couch and relaxed, a little. The metal endoframe of the couch groaned under his weight, and the wieght of his suit.

"And I'd uh, appreciate it if you didn't wear that suit all the time, I don't want you to tear my couch." Specter placatingly spread his hands with an apologetic expression.

"Where will I stay?" The chief suruptiteously allowed Cortana to go into Specter's lap-top that sat open on the coffee table.

"When I heard that we were picking up a passenger I arranged for your quaters beforehand. I did hear that you were of some importance, so I hope that your quarters are adequate." Specter raised his hand, as if to allow the Chief to follow him.

The chief brushed his hand against the computer and allowed Cortana back into his suit and turned off his external speaker as he followed Specter out of the room.

"What did you find?" He asked the AI.

"A few interesting things. First, is that that man is a mercenary commander, and his crew are all mercs as well. Second, all the files of his missions are in the thirty-first century. But they never mention the Covenant or any alien beings."

"That's interesting." He mused as he trodded behind Specter who led him past the mess.

"Indeed it is. But what I found most interesting is the recent file he created on researching the possibility of a parallel universe." She rambled on as the Chief walked down the dreary hall of the ship.

After what seemed to be an hour's walk they arrived at a nondescript door. "These will be your quarters for the duration of our journey. I hope you find them suitable."

Specter left John with a door key and walked away with a long breath. His mind screamed, "Glad to get away from that guy!" But he was still interested in the living tank/elemental.

* * *

John slid the door key through the slot, and watched as the light turned green, and as the door slid open with a hiss. He was given a large room, but it had only the neccessities a person could need. Private bath and shower, twin bed, dresser, and a closet. Not to mention everything was bolted in.

He found a change of clothes, and placed his armor in the closet only when he was sure that he would be safe, and when Cortana was safe in the ship's computer. He was relieved when he found the computer terminal in the room was actually an outlet to the ship's computer, it was a safe place for her.

This was when he laid down on the bed and tried to sleep. Sleep came hard for him, ever since Reach, and Halo, and the Flood, he found it hard to sleep without them coming back into his dreams. But even though he knew that the Flood were wiped out, they still mocked him in his dreams. Gravemind laughed in his gurgling and inhuman voice, wrapping his slimy tentacles around him once more.

But finally, the wave of Halo hit them, burned them into ash, and he could sleep.

* * *

Meanwhile Specter sat down with his whole team, games forgotten, they listened, and Cortana listened.

"What are we going to do with him while we wait? I mean who is this guy?" Shredder asked placeing his hands on his hips.

"I don't know, but the Brass at Earth didn't want to answer any questions. However, I did know of the possibility of the toaster worshippers being there." Specter replied. "I say we leave him be and just wait."

_(Author's note: When the term, "toaster worshipper" is used to describe the Word of Blake followers they are describing what they do. The Word of Blake believes that they must pray to the machines they are working on to keep them working, and that they must thank them for working well as long as they have been. Wierd huh?)_

"Well if we have to wait, I'm going to go work out." Hannibal sighed.

Falcon just left the room, and pretty soon, after most people had declared what they would do with their time, the room was empty.

Specter sat on the couch and opened his lap-top, typed in his password, and reviewed their budjet, plans, and worked on his research on his theory.

Castle, the tactical officer, leaned against the door frame. "Are we still getting paid?"

"In a way, yes." He mumbled his reply and continued to hit his keys.

Through all of this, Cortana absorbed what information she could about their hosts, and waited until the Chief would get her again.

* * *

I hope you all like the update. Thank you all very much for your reviews. Rouge Baron, your review is the one I appreciated the most. I hope that this chapter is better. Quiaff?

-Tremble wolf


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Pet Projects

Location: Skippy in orbit around Earth

Date/time: 3073/2553 AD, Mar 19th. 20:38 GST

Disclaimer: I don't own.

* * *

Specter sat once again at his computer, in his leather wing-backed chair, and holding a steaming mug of instant coffee. According to some of his lance mates it was his favorite past time. He was still researching what he could about the theories and sciences on FTL travel and theories of the universe; as it was he was steadily, at an exponential rate, getting more confused and rattled by the accidental science he had to reinvent.

His moment of insanity was broken when his laptop computer chimed in response to an incoming text message.

He opened the file and was nearly surprised enough by its contents to spill his coffee, luckily he didn't.

_"Dear Commander John K. Anderson_

_It came under my attention when we had our last meeting that you said you would be willing to do any job. And as such I bring you a reply; the attached file has coordinates for an underground R&D station on Triton. There is an important project underway and if you accept I would like you to go and find out why the station has cut off contact. If there are any hostiles; kill them._

_ -ONI section III"_

Specter typed his eager reply, trying to sound as professional and keep his excitement out of his words' tone.

_"I can only assume that you are the operative who briefed me recently._

_I do not want to bargain or question you, but I would like to know how much the payout of this mission is. Doubtless your project is of utmost importance to the UNSC, but nonetheless I need to be paid._

_ -Commander Anderson"_

It seemed to Specter only the next instant after he sent his text that a window popped up on his desktop and showed the face of the same ONI officer who had interrogated him.

"Commander, I am ONI section III Intelligence officer Ryan Howard." He spoke, a smile lingering on his face, twitching, but only for a moment for it disappeared.

Specter smiled politely back. "I can't tell you how exciting it is to do a job for you." His words were true, but were dripped in sickly sarcasm.

"Indeed; your actions when fighting the Covenant were impressive. As such, we turn to you to check on one of our facilities." Ryan turned to glance over his shoulder. "Truth is, we've lost contact, and that never happens. One of the policies was that when contact was lost, we were to go and retake the facility. So," Ryan breathed slowly, his fingers tapping lightly on a keyboard in front of him. "I want you to first scout the facility, find the source of the disturbance, and eliminate it; be it Covenant, or Human."

Specter leaned back, his chair squeaking as he got more comfortable. "Sounds like a high paying job." Specter intoned a sense of interest.

"It is, and since it is a sensitive job I want you to be extra careful; that is, don't be seen until you have the details." Ryan suggested. "Two million credits."

"I'm in." Specter found himself blurting despite his attempts to remain calm.

"Good, fly to Triton, find out what is going on, and fix the problem with minimal damage to our project and our facilities. Ryan Howard out." Specter's screen went blank, a new file had opened up onto his computer. It was a spreadsheet of information and details on the mission, and of course the coordinates of the facility on Triton.

Specter set his computer onto the table before him and leaped out of his leather chair. His quick and harried steps brought him out of the lounge in seconds and to the bridge in seeming moments. Upon his arrival, he found everyone staring at him as though he had interrupted something, all glanced towards him with raised eyebrows.

"Captain." Specter panted. "We have a job; take us to the moon Triton."

"A job, at last." The Captain brought the ship out of orbit and was soon skipping through the debris field that surrounded Earth.

* * *

Mech Bay:

Specter stood before the other seven mech pilots who had come along, Beowulf was still rubbing his sore ribs, and he was pacing along the row so he could examine everyone.

"You all know that this is our first good paying job, this is sensitive; I got the impression that if we screw this up we won't get paid. And you know how much I dislike people defaulting on their payments. Hannibal, you're taking your lance and scouting the northern section just four kilometers and closer to the facility. I will take the rest and scout the southern section. Remember, we are counting on stealth and speed here folks, light mechs and ECM and please, no beagle active probes, they may increase your sensor range but they have a tendency to bring your enemy right on top of you. God only knows, what if we find Stefan Amaris from the grave to fight us; so have your mechs equipped with the Laser Anti-Missile System."

They all watched as Specter excitedly finished his little instructions, all things they would have thought of in the first place, and watched as he leaped onto the ladder on his favorite light mech; the Raven.

The Raven, Specter couldn't quite place why he liked it so much. Was it because of it's birdlike appearance? Or its ability to run a hundred and thirty kilometers per hour? He wasn't sure, so he quit thinking about it and jumped into his seat. He buckled his five-point harness and donned his neuro-helmet. Specter wasn't expecting heavy fire, and as such he didn't wear the usual cooling vest... Triton was cold enough he was going to have to use a heater once outside.

He toggled his headset. "Guys, make sure you're wearing airtight suits... if you breath any of this atmosphere I wouldn't be surprised if you died instantly.

He powered up his Raven, and swiveled his torso so he could get a view of the bay doors. There was a hiss as his cockpit sealed and then a grinding noise as the air in the now empty bay was filtered and stored, and planet atmosphere was switched. The bay doors parted with a groan and ice flew into the bay.

Specter immediately had to turn on his space heater, the cockpit of his mech warmed slightly, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He upped the throttle, bringing his mech to thirty kph to pass through the door. Following close behind came Falcon in a Cougar, the low squat mech with backwards knee joints loaded to the teeth as polished warheads stuck their noses from their slots in the torso's missile racks.

"Specter lance we go south." He ordered, three mechs following him, one Cougar, one Wolfhound, and one Flea. The Wolfhound was a taller, humanoid shaped mech with one large right arm and a smaller left, it was small in build, but strong enough to take more punishment than most other light mechs, coming second in firepower only to the Clan Puma.

The Flea is really small, its battlefield silhouette like a toothpick. It is best known for its scout capabilities as one of the fastest mechs in existence, perfect for not wanting to be seen.

All the mechs were painted white, their forms barely visible in the scape of snow and ice. Specter was pleased with their progress as they pounded through a layer of white beneath them. He checked his nav, still a kilometer away.

"Keep an eye out for anything that shouldn't be in the middle of nowhere." He ordered sarcastically and swivled his mech's torso from side to side to accent his point. Unfortunatly there were no chuckles over the comm, only Falcon could be heard cursing in the background.

"How did he even best me in the first place?" She had mumbled but Specter still heard it.

"Get over it Falcon, let's just say that I'm good enough to allow some jokes." He was slightly annoyed at her and decided to run in peace like everyone else.

"Five hundred meters you guys..." Specter implied. "Stay sharp, who knows what could be there." They were on the other side of a mound, or hill, of ice and snow. The other side could hold any number of traps. They crested the hill soon after, and stopped to get a view of a large structure on the middle of a sheet of ice. The metal walls of the rectangluar building were scarred with black and pockmarked with holes. On the other side were large tracks and two downed Condor hover tanks, the sides had the insignia of of a bloody hand print.

"Word of Blake!" Specter screamed. "Castle get over here and prep our assault mechs!" His orders were rushed.

"Sir, I think you should continue into the facility and find out what is going on inside." Castle replied. "You don't have enough information."

"Hannibal get over here and guard our exit." Specter ran his Raven over to the entrance to the facility. There was a ramp uninhibited by its previously destroyed door that descended into the complex. As soon as he was next to the ramp Specter popped the seal of his mech and climbed out, thankful to be wearing an environmental suit. He turned to watch as his lance followed suit and climbed down to join him.

"I don't know how big the facility is, but now that we know who cut communications we have to take care of them. Follow me." He ran down the ramp without a second thought and stopped when they reached another large door that was undamaged. To the right of the door was a terminal whch hopefully would allow them to hack the door.

"Falcon?" He suggested, nodding his head in the terminal's direction.

"I have enough trouble trying to understand spheroids, it is not worth wasting my time to try to figure it out." She objected, putting her hands on her hips.

"Typical." Specter muttered, and turned to the console. He opened it, and after crossing a few wires the door parted slowly.

"After you." Specter bowed and motioned his hand as if he were a servant opening the door for his masters.

They ignored this and stalked inside an elevator without lights and drew their sidearms, laser pistols.

Specter sauntered in and closed the door behind him. "I guess we press the button that says "WOB" on it." He chuckled but quickly lost his humor for the preferable chill of silence. He raised his custom laser pistol with a small scope that had a built-in laser sight, and an extended charge battery that enlarged the laser's body further.

"Take us down." He nodded at Beowulf who complied by pressing the farthest down button. They descended thirty levels and finally found the elevator slowing. As it slowed, air filtered into the elevator and a computerized voice chimed contentedly. "You can now remove your environmental suits."

As the doors parted, they stuck to the sides and the shadows. Specter felt stupid because he knew an empty elevator would not travel by itself. Their view was limited but they could tell they were in a large atrium, there was a large sign labeled with a map of the complex and a small pointer that said, "You are here."

John took of him environmental helmet and nodded to Beowulf before pointing down the hall to the left of the elevator. As Beowulf dashed off, Specter ordered Falcon and Bullseye down the front hall and the stairs leaded up respectively.

He found himself alone rather quickly, and in an attempt to feel like he was doing something, he darted down a hall to his right. He soon entered a room full of empty cubicals and a large office at the end which seemed to have a balcony overlooking some kind of workspace or lab.

"_What would the Word of Blake want here?" _Specter asked himself while sneakily looking over the balconey. Below he saw Word of Blake soldiers keeping watch on several techs as they swarmed over a strange looking ship. The ship had the dark body and armor plating that were typical of the UNSC, but the frigate sized ship had a different shape or design than any before it.

Before Specter could wonder any more about it, he heard a shout and looked down to see one of the soldiers pointing at him. He ducked as bullets and lasers zippped through where he had been moments before.

* * *

This is an updated version of the chapter, I accidentally lost it when I accidentally put a wrong chapter over it and had to rewrite it. But hopefully it works better.

-Tremble Wolf


	8. Chapter 8

Alternate Reality

Chapter 8: Lost Projects

Location: Triton R&D facility.

Date/time: 2553/3073 Mar 20th 1:27GST

* * *

Specter jumped up and fired his laser pistol, his beam pierced the guard who had first seen him in the head. "The Word of Blake are stealing technology, typical, but I need you all to come and help me get rid of them." Specter stated into his mike to his team.

"On it." Beowulf answered. "I found a group in my area working on some sort of ship-sized Gauss cannon."

"I found several tied and gagged techs in my area." Falcon answered. "What should I do with them?"

"These stair go all the way to the top, I'll come help you." Bullseye panted.

Specter turned his attention to the soldiers below for one more second and shot down one who was trying to climb the ship.

"Falcon, unite the prisoners and find out how we can help." Specter ordered, a dwindling amount of misplaced fire speeding over his head.

Specter leaned over the balcony once more to get a view: three soldiers were hiding behind some crates and the techs had scattered to various corners. one of the soldiers shout at the techs pointing his rifle at him and yelled. "Get back to work!"

Specter seized his chance and felled the man who had spoken as he leaned out of his cover. Two soldiers remained. They seemed to get an idea and both jumped up at once and fired at his position. Just as Specter was beginning to sweat, a voice cried out and two shots range throughout the room.

"Bullseye!" The voice crowed as two bodies fell to the ground with bullet holes in their foreheads.

"Thanks for the assist." Specter stated as he climbed down the balcony and ran toward one of the techs. "It's okay, we were sent to help."

The man he had addressed gave an audible sigh. "Thanks, we have been captured for the past five hours. They came in and found our project and stole our plans before leaving only a skeleton crew here to have us build a second prototype."

"What are you working on?" Specter asked, curious.

"We like to call it a heavy Frigate, it has the same thick Titanium-A armor, but is upgraded with a plasma reactor and has a Covenant slipspace drive. The two thick wings house several missile racks, a MAC cannon each, and two plasma torpedo launchers per wing. That is not the best part of it, it has a shield generator." The tech proudly showed him the ship. "It's a good thing they only took the original prototype; it had malfunctions, while this one does not."

"I can see why they came here, but the real question is how they knew to come here." Specter mused. "But the worry is: can they fix it?"

"I don't know." The tech replied. "My name's Kendel by the way."

"I'm john." Specter nodded and looked the ship over. "How many more are here?"

* * *

Prince Victor Steiner-Davion relaxed his shoulders slightly as he watched his small fleet from a view port on his drop ship. They were attached to a large jumpship and were in the perfect position to watch the other ships attach.

"Tell me again," Victor began addressing his brother Peter. "Our scouts discovered the wormhole which took the Word of Blake?"

"Specter may not have known this, but we sent them through the portal at our current coordinates so that they could distract the WOrd of Blake while we close the trap." Peter crossed his arms. "They duplicated the jump, and I think it is quite possible for us to help them."

"Indeed," Victor nodded, satisfied. "I'll be in my quarters." He strode away with a distracted gaite.

Peter stalked his way down to the mechbay near the ground of their Overlord class dropship. The room was filled with armor plating, myomer bundles in carts, busy techs, but his eyes caught on to his mech. His Fafnir was nearly destroyed when facing down the Archon's aunt, he remembered Specter's influence in her downfall. The giant assault mech was still shredded from its encounter, there had been only about a week and a half and the techs had hardly had time to repair it. Wires and myomer splayed out from the gashes and cooled slag formed rivulet patterns on the dented torso that surrounded the Heavy Gauss rifles' barrels.

As the Prince was in deep thought, he was rudely awakened to the voice of the Jumpship's Captain. "We are fully charged, commencing jump in five...four...three...two...one..." The ship lurched, tossing Peter's insides and bringing his recent meal into his throat. He held on, thankful that his magnetic soles held him in place. The next instant, after the immense feeling of euphoria and nausia, Peter saw a bright light and was erupted back into reality. The Captain's voice came back online. "Whoa several Word of Blake ships are in orbit around something, we've been noticed! all pilots get in your ships!"

Peter sighed. _"So soon?"_

* * *

Specter shook Kendal's hand. "I need to secure this facility, but in the mean time you and your boys can get back into your normal routine."

"Sir, I don't any of us will get completely back to normal, but it's good to be free." Kendal waved and ran back to a computer station behind a shield of glass. "You might want to stand back sir, I'm going to run some tests!"

Specter ran off and activated his mic. "Any more resistance?"

Falcon was the first to reply, "I freed the technicians, and found a hangar occupied by Word of Blake forces. I cleared it out." Over the mic, Specter could hear someone gurgle and collapse as if impaled by some crude, sharp metal object.

"Good, continue scouting." Specter sighed. "Anyone else find anything?"

"No sir, all is in the clear." Beowulf stated. "At least it is now."

"Seriously, can I tell ONI that it is taken care of?" Specter tapped his foot in annoyance.

"Yes sir." Beowulf was somewhere.

"Yeah." Bullseye ran up to his side.

"Aff." Falcon barked over the line.

"Alright, that's the kind of answer I wanted." Specter ran back to Kendal. "I need to get a message to Earth, how soon can you and your team repair your communications?"

"Soon sir, but I think it would be best if you guarded our entrance and make sure no more rebels come here."

_They're not rebels, at least not in the traditional sense. _Specter thought. "Alright team, get your gear back in it, I need everyone back to guard the entrance."

He got a chorus of answers, or it was more like deafening silence. That is until Bullseye groaned. "Can't we just stay in our ship and keep an eye on our sensors?"

"That's a good idea Bullseye, we'll watch the radar while you stand outside, does that sound good?" Specter teased and punched him in the shoulder. "No seriously, Hannibal and his team have been sitting around for a while; it is our turn now."

"Yes sir." Bullseye groaned but ran back to the elevator and slipped back into his enviro-suit.

* * *

(Hours Later)

Time flew by as fast as the wind that shifted the dunes of ice and buried their mechs. Specter felt as though he wanted the Word of Blake to come just so he could get some action. Hannibal had long since returned to the ship which was now parked on top of the facility where it was relatively flat. Four APU's surrounded the ship providing extra power in case they needed to take off in a hurry, and over the comm he could hear Hannibal and the bridge crew sharing a round of fine Whiskey.

"Save some for when we get back." Specter stated, inside he was jealous of the warmth and angry that he could not celebrate with them because of their upcoming payday.

"Specter," Katrina chided. "There really is no need for you to torture yourself by staying out there; the ship is right here and you could get out there at a moments notice!" She was chuckling uninhibitedly.

"How many shots have you had?" Specter asked, suspicious.

"Enough." She closed the line and silence filled the cockpit of his Raven.

"Alright team, Bullseye was right, it stinks being out here. Let's head in." Specter turned his mech and ran back to the ship. He was about to call for them to open the bay doors when six red blips appeared on his radar. His computer happily informed him: "Enemy detected." About six times.

"Falcon, Bullseye, Beowulf, follow me and stay concealed and in passive sensor mode." He led them through a series of dunes and drifts to where he could see four Myrmidon medium tanks, and two light mechs: a Flea, and an Osiris. He quickly warned them. "Watch out for those Myrmidons, they mount PPC's, take them out and then focus on the mechs... or... no wait! Falcon and Beowulf deal with the mechs while Bullseye and I crush the tanks... got it?"

"Yes sir!" Bullseye crowed. "Finally some action."

"Aff commander." Falcon answered coldly.

"This is it!" Beowulf declared. "At last!"

"Come on Bullseye." Specter said as he maneuvered his Raven at a hundred and thirty kilometers per hour in a zigzag pattern until he was three hundred meters from the tanks. He silently cursed the fog on his glass shield and wished fervently that the frost would disappear as well. At the right moment, he jumped forward and beelined for the lead Myrmidon. He depressed the trigger on his joystick and fired his medium X-pulse lasers; all three. The X-pulse laser is pretty new on the market, a healthy blend of the Clan influence allowing it more power, but unfortunately as it was created by the Inner Sphere; it had a short range.

His red lasers burned into the first Myrmidon, cutting into the armor, causing superheated slag to roll and drip down before freezing in the cold environment. Seconds later, the Myrmidon swiveled on its base and fired a bolt of man-made lightning inches from his mech's cockpit. Specter's computer, and sensors and all onboard equipment glitched and screamed warnings from the proximity of the bolt of accelerated particles.

"Bullseye?" Specter asked shakily as he gunned down the tank.

"I'm on it sir." Bullseye loved the Wolfhound; it was his favourite light mech, even though he would always be more comfortable in a heavy mech. He leveled his right arm, the one bearing the deadly Clan Extended Range Particle Accelerator Cannon that was colloquially known as the PPC. His arm flashed in a brilliant display of blue sparks and light, the bolt of energy smashed into the closest Myrmidon and crushed it into sparse debris.

Specter made no comment as he watched Bullseye flash-fry the occupants of the tank, but rather focused his attention on the remaining two tanks. He darted forward and leaned his mech into a jump, he soared through the air for several fleeting seconds and landed before the first tank. His quick hand caused his mech to dodge to the side as the tank's gunner predictably fired at Specter's previous position. The small SRM 4 missile rack set back from the main gun flared, and four unguided missiles streaked into the sky as specter crouched low and fired his lasers into the treads and body of the tank; hoping to depressurize the inside and cause the men to suffocate. He hoped that they might be able to salvage the tank and use it for their own use. Alas it was not to be so: his laser hit the tank's reactor after punching through the weak armor at the bottom of the tank's front. The tank wobbled and imploded in on itself before creating a little crater around it and blackening Specter's paint.

"Bullseye, did you get that other one?" Specter asked, pulling his mech into a standing position, looking oddly like a Vulture pulling its beak from a carcass, especially the way its discolored beak practically untangled itself from the insides of the imploded tank.

"We're all clear of here sir, do I have permission to help out Falcon and Beowulf?" Bullseye's Wolfhound's legs agitatedly stomped up and down as it anxious to get moving.

"Yeah let's get going!" Specter gunned forward and pounded over a drift to find Beowulf and Falcon fighting their own matches. Beowulf Cornered the Flea, but most his shots missed as the quick light mech dodged in an unpredictable manner. Falcon was a grisly scene, she was covered in soot and had small holes burnt into her armor. However, the Osiris was a different matter all together, one of its legs was mangled and was half dragged awkwardly behind it.

"Die Freebirth Stravag!" Falcon taunted and fired an alpha strike consisting of all her currently loaded Streak MRM missiles. They immediatly homed in on the doomed Osiris, and just before the thirty odd missiles impacted, the Pilot ejected from his mech and flew into the sky. Specter made a mental prediction that the man would die rather than be picked up, personally he was dissapointed that the Word of Blake would flee rather than die. He quickly switched his attention back to the Flee and fired his laser into the knee joint of the mech. It stumbled and collpsed onto the ground where Beowulf pounded it gunfire. Cracks opened in the rear side of the mech, and the reacter could be seen glowing just as the projectiles destabalized it and exploded in a bloom of smoke and flame.

"Come on guys, it's our turn to party!" Specter cheered over the comm.

* * *

(Orbiting unidentified World)

Peter watched as the fire from flights of Aerospace fighters raged between the heavy ships. He wished that he could somehow help in the battle; but he was a Prince whose only real skill in battle was on land and front the pilot seat of a Battlemech. He watched as concentrated fire from all the eight dropships and the four battleships caused the lead Word of Blake ship to explode. Three ships remained; though one was of a design Peter didn't recognize. Whenever stray fire drifted close, a buble of energy diverted it away from the body of the vessel. Peter watched with interest as it fired two massive Gauss cannons and crushed the lead battleship. He saw the danger, but he had to make sure everyone else did as well.

He ran to a comm unit. "All ships, concentrate fire on their flagship!"

Victor came running into the observation platform moments later. "What is it?" He asked, but he gaped when he saw the fire from the ships either being deflected or absorbed by a shimmering shield that surrounded the lead ship of the Word of Blake. "How did they get that?" He didn't have time to get an answer. The shields collpsed with a visible pop and the concentrated fire began to tear mercilessly into the ship. The next instant, the ship lurched forward as a black tear in space enveloped it.

Peter choked. "A battle ship of _that _size cannot possibly have a Translight engine!"

Victor took no time, but yelled over the comm. "Finished off the other ships, track the trajectory of the flagship and find out where they are going and how long it will take them!"

He got an answer right away. "They're on their way to Terra! If we leave right now we can arrive just behind them in a week." The voice was unfamiliar, but Victor didn't who answered him.

"Just get us moving, we have to get that ship, Specter may be in trouble!" Victor sighed. _It's no use having your own mercenary just to lose him before your plans are finished._

* * *

Specter relaxed. "I know ONI might have information, I think we need to pay them a visit and get our pay." He glanced over at Katrina who was sleeping soundly on the couch in the lounge, the rest of his team talk quietly in different corners or read books in silence.

"I don't trust ONI," He said without reason. "Something tells me that there's something else going on." Specter leaned his head against the back of his favorite chair and drifted off.

* * *

This was a fixed chapter, I will continue to edit and rewrite things.

-Tremble Wolf


	9. Chapter 9

Alternate Reality

Chapter 9: What side of the hay stack would you check first?

Location: Orbiting Earth

Date/time: 2553/3073 Mar 24th 5:32 GST

With several notebooks and a laptop computer Specter sat snugly in his leather command chair. This is the same chair he had used many times when planning his next move and was just as lost as the next person in guessing which star to go to.

The most recent file he had pulled was a study on determining the location of a ship based on its trajectory; Specter still wasn't used to calculating slipspace coordinates and was rubbing his temples from a massive headache. His mug of coffee was empty except for the ring of dry crust in the bottom and several numbers had been smudged off his calculator from use. In addition to the mess of papers covering his hand-carved wooden desk he held a black-market issue untraceable phone in his left hand.

His moment of silence was shattered, causing a reflex action to throw his left hand into his mug and send both the phone and mug into the nearby wall.

"Sir, I really must protest to your overworking yourself. It is most likely by now that they have died at the hands of the aliens by now. You must take a break..." Katrina, codenamed Castle, was rudely cut off.

"It was my responsibility they got away, and I am so close to a breakthrough!" Specter retorted, leaning out of his chair to retrieve his fallen phone. "I just contacted Sollaris VII and he said he might have caught something important; mentioned something about some rebellion in their history." Specter thought back to when they had brought the SPARTAN to the ONI headquarters. They merely waved 'goodbye' before John was dragged off for interrogations and a thorough medical check-up. The Master chief had left a note on his bunk before he left, it hinted that the UNSC was not nearly so united as it should be and that there were some in power whose intentions for thier future was only in their best interests. He had left contact information which he addured were secure, and ever since their payday Specter had either been researching about "slipspace" or investigating leads dropped by their "DLF" (Dear little friend)

"Our ship is not bugged we don't have to use John's call-sign here." Katrina chided.

"I want to make it a habit that we call our informant something no-one could to tie to him. Besides that, how do you know we aren't bugged; we don't have tight security, I wonder if we even have anything more expensive than a code to unlock the ship's bay doors."

"You could upgrade the security..."

"We're mercenaries, not Victor's body guards, at least no one is supposed to know..." Specter stood, idly flipping the phone in his hand. "Besides it would give the impression that I had something I wanted to hide."

"But you do."

"I don't want people to think I do."

"I always hated poker..." Katrina sighed and left the office with a click of the door.

Specter relaxed back in his chair and picked up the slipspace science essay he had rented from the library. Obviously it wasn't hard material that would point the way but it taught him exactly how these people traveled.

_Maybe I should just contact John and ask him for help._

Specter sighed, and deciding that Katrina was right he place the phone in his jacket's pocket and stepped out of his office and into a fresh recycled-air filled hallway. He didn't try to take stock of his surroundings as they were dull and monotenous, causing no interest in any person who used the halls.

His path took him directly to the crew's lounge, this was where he and his lance would relax after a tense mission and let off steam. The lounge was complete with two couches and several chairs, a small fully stocked fridge, a mini bar and a small cabinet stuffed to the brim with snacks.

He retrieved an energy bar from the cabinet and sat in one of the chairs with an orange soda in hand.

Sadly this was not to be a restful place; the ship's captain boomed his voice across the comm network and beckoned him to come... quick.

Specter lunged out of his chair and stalked toward the door. His back was tight with stress created knots and his walk was stiff, stiff from hours of work. His normally clear eyes were blood-shot and had blackened underneath from lack of sleep.

When he arrived at the bridge, he noticed receiving several bemused looks from the bridge crew. He shrugged it off and stood next to the captain. "Yes." He croaked.

Momentarily taken aback at the state of his employer that captain paused, opening and closing his mouth for a few seconds before composing himself. "Right, well," He twitched his fingers anxiously and quickly continued, "I've been working with the survivors of the Triton facility and we think we've found the region of space where they might be... be warned it's a rather large area, and it's far."

"Just show me a colored in section of map!" Specter demanded, leaning in toward the captain's face, showering him with coffee breath.

The captain typed several commands and revealed a map of the galaxy with a conical narrow angled section of three dimensional space.

"Well whose space is that, who controls it?"

"Uh, mostly unexplored, but according to updated UNSC maps it appears to be mostly Loyalist Covenant controlled space."

Specter relaxed, "What are the chances that they flew into Loyalist space?"

"It's a narrow cone sir, there is and most of the beginning of the cone is the controlled space, and according to the engineers the prototype could only travel several hours in slipspace with then gives us the conclusion that they would have a 72.5 chance of stopping in Loyalist space." The captain spoke with such continuing vigor and annoyance that Specter half decided to leave.

But as soon as the high chances of the ship exiting slipspace in Loyalist space were mentioned; Specter relaxed considerably. "Thanks." Specter walked off toward the bridge door before turning and smirking awkwardly. "I'll be in my quarters; wake me up if you hear anything."

* * *

NEXT DAY

MAR 25th 03:47 GST

Specter woke to a quiet, respectful tap on his door. He groaned tiredly and rolled off his bunk and onto the floor. Luckily he was still dressed because he had been too tired to change before he collapsed on his bed.

"Yes what is it?" He asked, blinking in the light on his newly opened door.

"Sir, we have an update from Sollaris." Castle nodded, handing him a clipboard with a coded message written on it; and underneath was a decoded copy.

Specter accepted the message and sat back on his bed; Castle didn't leave, but stood by the door.

"Could I hear the message sir?" She asked politely, folding her hands in front of her.

"Yeah, sure, I just thought you'd read it already." Specter held up the message, it was short and to the point; there were strange things happening in the human government, "Apparently they can't keep track of several admirals and diplomatic leaders; Sollaris thinks there's something going on... He says here that several of the admirals were against the alliance with the aliens and that some of them were against the program that created him."

Specter paused. "I still know way too little about this universe."

"Anything else, names perhaps?" Castle asked.

"He didn't leave us much information, he only said that he suspects that an someone within ONI, an admiral Parangoski, might either have information or be involved." Specter puzzled, scratching his chin. "Could you see what you could find?"

"Sir, I doubt that they leave all their information unencrypted and floating around the net." She paused, slightly at a loss for a word. "What we're looking for would most likely be in a closed system inside the ONI office.

Specter jumped up. "Follow me, I have an idea." He ran over to the wall mounted comm system, and after activating it with a click he spoke. "Beowulf, Falcon, meet me in the hangar."

He motioned his hand at Castle, indicating that she follow him; though with her heels she couldn't really run.

"I'll be right down sir." She rolled her eyes and clicked after her speeding commander.

* * *

Specter leaned over a crowded table in the hangar bay; the sound of the techs working drowned out the sound of his speech so that only those three who leaned in close could hear. They were all wearing nondescript black fatigues with gloves and scarves, and black beanies on their heads.

Specter was pointing toward a small alleyway on their pirated map of the ONI complex and with a mathematical compass indicated the small breaker box.

"... going to be dark and cold..." He looked them straight in the eyes, "We can't let anyone know we're there."

They nodded quietly, though even if they were making any sound it was lost in the din.

"There is an air duct accessed from the roof that you, Falcon and Castle, can enter and sneak into the security office; just trank them Falcon we don't need to leave any proof we were here."

"But sir, won't he feel the needle?" Castle asked innocently.

"No, we are using nerve pellets, they are hardly anything, just hit them on their skin and they'll fall into a deep sleep at their posts without noticing why." Specter answered. "Now, back to the plan. Once you loop the security feed we can enter through the security door with your help. Then it is a matter of locating Parangoski's office and downloading her files; then we leave and rendezvous back at this deserted factory here; it's where our transport is hidden. We will go together but in case anyone gets lost we have a GPS uplink and map to our location. The GPS in routed through our ship, not through one of their satelites so we don't need to worry about our signal being cracked or even picked up." He took a deep breath, running his eyes over the map. "Any questions?"

"What is our vehicle?" Falcon asked.

"We'll take a Condor hovertank till we reach a small village twenty or so miles from there and be picked up by the ship. We will be landing at that site, drive to the factory, walk to our objective, complete our mission and head home. Get suited up and be ready by ten, be in the hangar; I'll meet you there." Specter leaned off the table and stalked toward the door. "And Castle bring the ship into atmosphere."

"Yes sir." She replied, turning tail and leaving for the bridge.

"This will be fun." Specter thoguht to himself. "Never thought I'd ever play spy before." He said out loud to no one in particular.

* * *

Mission Op. Northwind Peace Talks:

Outside ONI office in Novgorod Russia GST 22:13 Mar 25th 2552

Specter paused, pressing a few keys on his touchscreen PDA, glancing back over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his lancemate Beowulf help to leverage Falcon onto the roof of the small outbuilding.

"Feed has been looped." Specter stated, his voice quelled to a whisper amid the blizzard that assaulted them from above. He nodded toward Falcon as she pulled Castle up to the roof top, and clicked his earpiece; "Falcon, you have dart trank pistols right? Just in case? You guys brought knives, and laser pistols as well right?"

Falcon displayed her response with an irritated pose and a wave. "Do not mock me commander, I AM Aiasa Thastus remember? I fought for a bloodname; nothing you could have accomplished."

Specter shook his head. "Then how did you become my bondsman?"

"Stravag!" Falcon cursed and shut the channel.

"Heh." Specter laughed.

In the mean time, Castle had pryed the grate off the air duct and was about to slide her feet in when Falcon pulled her out and slid silently in first... without a word or warning.

"Clanners." Castle cursed, remembering how she was orphaned in the clan invasion of 3050.

Katrina slid in after, her outfit of fur and parka, mixed with shoes which were padded allowed her to slid all the way to the horizontal section of duct without a sound. But even if there was a sound, no one inside would have heard through the blaring of an electric guitar in the security room.

Falcon peered through the slits in the grate that opened into the security observation room. She could tell that one officer manned the desk, while the adjaceent room, the lounge held three more officers; all luckily out of easy reach of the alarm. She leveled her trank gun and aimed at the guard who manned the surveilance desk as he was out of the other guards' sight. He pulled the trigger on the small weapon, and spat a silent nerve pellet onto the guard's neck; it bounced off and rolled into a corner and the guard was immediatly out cold.

Falcon pryed the grate open, its rusty squeaks unoticed with the music playing. She dropped to the ground satisfied at the comfortable warmth offered by being actually in the room, and posted Castle at the door to guard her while she checked the body of the guard.

Falcon leaned in close behind Castle, "You fire on the guard at the left, I will take care of the other two, on three."

"One." Falcon hissed, slipping her weapon up to eye level.

"Two." She leveled it to a ready position.

"Three." She nodded and burst from the door, mechanically shooting down the two guards to the right.

Castle merely tripped after her and fired three pellets until she silenced the third guard.

"You really need more target practice." Falcon haughtily stated, brushing her hair out of her face with her hand.

"I'll have you know..." Castle was cut off from finishing.

"No time." Falcon stated over her, "We must open the door for our freezing allies."

Caslte huffed, and stalked after feeling more and more like the tactical officer that she was and less like a spy.

When they opened the side door to the building they found specter and Beowulf huddled near by because the blizzard had intensified. "Got any hot chocolate?" Specter ask sarcastically. "I could use something hot."

"I'm sure you'll be fine sir, but let's just hurry this up, we don't have much time." Castle stated, holding the door wide for them to enter.

They of course shook their boots, and released a hail of snow from their shoulders, with Falcon eyeing the mess irritatedly.

The dull hallway that greeted them was plain cement walls and lights hanging from the cieling, obviously this was meant to discourage any visitors that anything important was accomplished or hidden there. The steel and hydrolic door at the end obviously led deeper into the facility and beckoned them to pass through.

It opened with a groan as the half-frozen hydrolics struggled against the weight of the two foot thick door. And the unlight hallway that opened like a maw before them discouraged further entry.

"Night vision goggles." Specter stated, slipping his goggles over his eyes and adjusting them to the dim light. The sight that opened up before him was one of disuse and because of all the dust and rubble could be clearly tracked that there was recent travel; a pair of high-heeled shoe markings led them on a winding path around curves and corners until the dust and debris metled away and two guards, one of either side of an elevator door, waited in readiness.

Specter quickly tranqed them to silence and examined them, they wore typical marine fatigues, though one was a private and the other was a sergeant. Their ID tags might be of use. Though once he looked at the panel next to the door he new they either had to have someone's hand, eyes, and head, or they would have to hack the system.

"Falcon, you know much about electronics?" Specter asked, his eyes and body language suggesting that she give a shot at hacking the door.

"Yes." She rolled her eyes, examining the console. "But I have no knowledge of how to help here."

"Castle?"

"Yes sir, one moment." Castle produced several tools from her belt and opened the panel to get a view of the insides. Specter couldn't tell what she was doing in there from his angle, all he knew was that five minutes passed and finally the door opened. "There, you see?"

"Yes, well, no time to talk let's go." Specter stepped into te elevator, motioning for silence, thankful that they all had covered their faces so as not to be caught by secret cameras.

He slipped a mechanical voice disfiguration device over his mouth and relaxed. His eyes, guarded by fake contacts which changed the look of his eyes so as to make them untraceable; scanned the elevator.

There were several buttons, most leading up, but Specter had the feeling that the information they wanted would be underground, at the negative tenth floor. He pressed the button and readied his trank gun, aiming at the door.

But when they opened there was no one guarding the door. _That's odd._

This was an underground corridor carved out of the living rock. A small escape route map near the elevator provided the map they needed. "Let's check the labs." He pointed, indicating the section down the left wing of the crossroads ahead.

They walked quietly down the corridor, not making a sound, the only thing they could hear were the continuous groan of machinery somewhere nearby and the sound of some low humming in the area they wanted to reach.

They faded into the dim shadows of the intersection, glancing left, and found their path was empty.

As they grew nearer and nearer to the labs the sound the the humming machinery grew louder and louder, and when they reached the door to the observation deck they found it almost overpowering. Through the cracks in the door Specter though he could see a commanding female figure leaning over the railing, watching some events unfold below; she turned toward the door and started towards them.

They all instincfully ducked into the shadows, breathing silently until the door opened and she passed them, not looking in their direction, her attention focused on a small clipboard in her hands. Specter motioned for Falcon and Castle to follow her while he grabbed Beowulf by the shoulder and snuck the the open door of the observation deck, leaving a rock to hold the door open.

They crawled into respective corners where the light of the lab below didn't reach them, and where they could observe the tests. Specter stared in shock as several doctors pushed in a bed with a young teen patient.

"... several hours, augmentation on subject fifty seven successful..."

"...nurse get that..."

"...where's that report on fifty seven?"

The teen was drugged, his eyes rolling up into his head, and once he was out, Specter knew he was about to witness the most "life changing" surguries ever known.

"Beowulf, guard the door, I'm going to document this." He whispered into his mic, no sound was heard below.

_I thought she wasn't fond of the SPARTAN program, what's going on here?_

* * *

Sorry about the wait, the changes, the additions, all that's going on it's a lot. So hang in as I prepare to update more.

-Tremble Wolf


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Investigative journalism

Location: Novgorod research station, Russia, Earth.

--Augmentation labs

Date/time: 3073/2553 AD, Mar 8th. 23:51 GST

Disclaimer: I don't own.

* * *

Specter had watched the surgery for about an hour, luckily his hardened stomach was able to stand watching and recording the process. The doctors were encasing the teen's bones, injecting stimulants and doing other things that Specter couldn't identify.

He waited, breathing silently in the shadows; waiting for a chance or a time when the doctors would finish their work andallow him a break. Finally, he got an idea, the kind of idea that sparks an annoyed, self depreciating remark. Working with what little he had, he placed a wireless video bug in a nearby dark crack in the wall. He had to check his PDA to make sure the bug was facing the right way and continued recording through the bug; which luckily had a battery life of three days.

Once he was sure the camera was set, he got low, crawled silently to the door and slipped through, remembering to place the rock that held it open back to where it came from. Beowulf was still alert, waiting where he had been posted in the shadows.

Specter motioned for him to follow and sent a silent query from his PDA to Castle to check on her progress.

He received a short, clipped reply.

"We are still watching, she works late and talks to no one."

Specter nodded, and realizing their situation was precarious motioned to Beowulf that they needed to head back to the security office as the guards there would not sleep forever. They sneak ran down the empty corridor and slipped back into the elevator.

"It seems our access down here was a one time offer." Specter noticed, Castle hadn't disabled the lock, she just allowed it to die and take them down.

"How many stories up?" Beowulf asked.

"No idea, come on let's go." Specter his climbing lock-clamps out of his out and fastened them to the elevator cable, also attaching his belt from a longer robe to allow him safety if he fell.

_I was never much good at this. _He gulped, something Beowulf noticed but didn't mention as he _knew _it would upset his commander and make him more uneasy.

Specter thought as he slid both hands up, one after the other, the clamps sliding up and locking when the movement stopped. They climbed for about ten minutes until they noticed the open door of their exit, the tranqed guards were still asleep; at least these two were.

It took some effort to reach the floor they wanted; as the cable was a good sized distance from the door, in the end they had to climb higher and rappel down to the door, and after remotely deactivating the locks on their gear, retrieved it from the cable by pulling on their separate ropes.

Specter pulled out his tranq pistol, and in an unrecognizable mixture of good fun and precaution he shot the guards each once more. Then with the silence of a cat, he padded down the hall to check on the security office.

"What's your status?" Specter keyed into his PDA.

"She's leaving, heading for the elevator we deactivated!" Castle typed in a frenzied response.

"Tranq her!"

Specter stood stock still, waiting awkwardly for several seconds until the reply came.

"She's out, Falcon is getting the copy of her hard drive." Castle responded, and from where she stood over the body of the Admiral, it seemed as though things were going well.

But when Specter stepped into the security office, he heard the slight groan of someone waking up, just one. He bolted into the room, with his mask shielding his face, and shot the waking guard in the face with his tranq gun.

"Shoot the others while I check the security status and warning levels on the computer." Specter entered the monitoring office and checked the computers, it was all clear, no warnings, nothing wrong... except.

Thud.

Specter was thrown into the desk from behind, the guard who had previously been asleep was on top of his, not even thinking to trigger the alarm. Specter fumbled as the guard gripped his neck.

Specter, on the floor, always figured that being thrown to the ground was never the end of the fight, and had always considered ground fighting to be its own form, one that he had always been interested in. He swung his legs up and grabbed the man around the torso, and in one swift move, twisted so as to throw the man to the side.

His direction was specifically chosen, because the man's head contacted the nearby desk and knocked him out cold.

Specter stood, brushing himself off, and out of spite he shot the man to ensure his sleep. The alarm was still not triggered, but not wanting anyone to be able to trigger it, Specter opened the case that surrounded to the button.

There were several wires, some specifically used to power the device, and more to send the signal to the alarms. Specter cut the wires that sent to the signal to the alarms and replaced the case around the button. The light showed that it had power and it looked as though it still worked even if it didn't.

"Alarms deactivated, rendezvous at Op point Baker when ready."

"Yes sir." Castle had typed the reply, but Specter could almost hear the tired strain of her voice as though she had spoken directly to him. He made a mental note to have a short; very short, shore leave and relieve some stress from his team.

Specter glanced over his shoulder once more at the sleeping guard who had tackled him five minutes before; silently berating himself for not realizing that the missing thing he noticed when he entered had been the guard; Castle had mentioned the details when he had entered but it had been his distracted thoughts toward the project that had left him open to attack.

Beowulf relaxed in the door way, leaning against the frame. "Something wrong commander?"

"...nothing..." Specter replied, his mind obviously somewhere else; evaluating their progress so far, retracing his memories to see what he should have done differently.

"Right." Beowulf stated, in an unbelieving tone that Specter would have noticed any other time, but he was too busy in his thoughts. "Sir, shouldn't we head for op. point Baker now?"

"Yes." Specter shook himself out of his reverie and lifted his laser pistol, it was a small thing he had modified; not that he was very good at it himself, so he had hired someone to mod it for him. It had been given a black glossy colour and had the insignia of the Northwind Mercenary company on its dorsal side. The Northwind insignia: a red and green plaid shield with a longsword on it was a notorious symbol in the universe he came from; a symbol of an honorable and traditional mercenary company that had been around for hundreds of years, and Specter was proud to be sponsored by them and the Mercenary Review Board Commission. The MRBC based out of the free, neutral planet Outreach.

Specter examined his pistol, the modified gun had a more focused beam, which gave it more power in concentration, but less spread; perfect for brain surgery... right?

The brain surgery bit was what the modifier had said when he was paid, laughing in his comically scratchy accent which was a mockery of english.

Specter cursed; more reveries.

"Sir, shouldn't we leave... now?" Beowulf stated, more urgent than before.

"Alright let's get out of here!" Specter jumped to his feet, sweeping the room with his eyes, the door they had used to enter the facility would do for an exit, and they sped their way to the door. Just touching the door practically froze Specter's fingers; even through his gloves. In the end, after retrieving his hands from the push-lock mechanism he used his body to press against it and open the door.

Unfortunately a gust of snow and wind assaulted them life a rain of LRM 20's from a legion of Longbow assault mechs. The blizzard had grown in strength and ferocity, sealing the hope that any tracks of them would be lost; the most luckily lost, with a bittersweet effect, was the fact that their heat trail would disappear almost instantly.

The ran out into the wind, fighting an ever increasing battle to make progress to the abandoned factory several kilometers away. Their path leading them through growing snowdrifts; like a battle through a desert filled with mountains of sand and heat; this was the complete reciprocal. Except, Specter couldn't help but think of the stories of people struggling through the desert, it sure felt the same but not the same.

_Oh irony._

Specter began to love the parts of their travel when they would reach the relative safety between drifts after sliding down a 'dune'. The protection from the wind would be short lasting as the wind would level it and create new dunes for them to cross the storm's fury humbling even to someone who had been in battles in the most powerful, or most enamoured of human weapons. Specter was in awe of the spectacle before him; such raw power he could never rival or achieve, it was inspiring, and depressing; as every time he thought he was close to the factory he found they hadn't traveled as far as he thought.

It took two hours of exhausting travel through bonechilling wind and heart freezing snows. And then Beowulf stopped him. "Sir, we're here." Beowulf stated this in a startled voice, but his face was completely masked by his goggles and thick scarf and hood.

"Really..." Specter was about to get on his case for teasing him when all he wanted was warmth when Beowulf slipped his ice axe from his back and slammed it into the ground beneath his feet.

Immediatly the ground fell beneath his feet; shattered glass and snow fell like rain onto a cement floor ten feet below. Beowulf held onto the axe, and attached a rappeling cable to its built in cinch and proffered the other end to Specter to help lower him down.

Specter secured himself quickly, knowing Beowulf could hold forever, and attached beowulf's cable to his own in order to extend it to allow him to reach to ground beneath. And in an efficient process he lowered Beowulf to the ground. Beowulf motioned for Specter to lower himself into the hole; which was done in seconds as Specter willingly climbed in to get out of the wind. And in another quick process Beowulf held firm while Specter released more of his cable and slid to the ground.

Specter hadn't just tied his and Beowulf's cables together, he had used his auto-detaching climbing clamp tp secure the two ends together; so it was only a matter of pressing a button for the cables to come sliding down and recoiling automatically into their belts.

"Well, the only shame is that we lost on axe." Beowulf stated, his tone light and relieved. "Certainly glad to be out of that wind." He motioned above, gesturing at the hole in the factory roof. "I'm going to the Condor, gotta prepare some hot coffee; everyone will appreciate it."

"Good thought." Specter agreed. "Mind if I come Charlie?"

"I don't need any help right now John, I'm sure you'll find something to do." Beowulf waved and ran to keep his blood warm, plus the Condor was parked a good three hundred meters away in the storage room.

John Anderson, aka Specter, sighed knowing that Beowulf was wrong about there being something to do. The only thing he could think of was to check up on the status of his comrades.

_They're running late._ He thought, his brow furrowing in slight worry.

"Castle where are you, state distance in time." Specter keyed his short note into his PDA and sent it off.

He had no reply for about ten minutes, and was about to go find Beowulf when a frozen looking Katrina rappeled down and slid to a stop in front of him.

"Surprise." She stated miserably.

Falcon descended seconds later, and much quicker, she practically jumped down.

"Falcon, sit rep?" Specter asked, dissmissing Castle with a wave of his hand.

"We completed the download of the hard drive of the Admiral's computer sir." She stated, she wasn't even fazed by the weather.

_Good thing she came huh?_ Specter thought when he noticed she was perfectly comfortable.

"Good. Any followers, suspicion, or anything else?" Specter's tone was light, but then it always was, and Falcon took it rightly to be a serious question.

"Neg." She replied in her exotic clanner accent.

"Good, go report to Beowulf at the Condor, he has something you need before we continue." Specter liked that order, but then it wasn't every day he got to order someone to drink coffee.

Falcon knew he had stated it flippantly and turned heel to go to the Condor; Specter right at her side, though he was fastwalking as she took long strides. That was one of the things that bugged him about her; her height, and not to mention superior attitude, and also to mention she didn't think of him as anything beside her commander or an inferior being; that was annoying to him.

Of course, he admired everything else about her, she was a skilled pilot, and good tactiction, and was very good looking... and she usually followed orders.

He sighed when he saw the Condor come into view; Castle and Beowulf were already sipping copious amounts of scalding cheap coffee and had their faces immersed in the steam flowing off the top of their mugs. Castle took of of the four thermoses of coffee and went straight to the driver's seat of the tank.

Specter grabbed his thermos, thankful that Beowulf had made one for each instead of making them share, and shouted joyfully. "Shotgun."

* * *

Well, hopefully I'll be able to update more and more quickely I hope this new spin and character development. Please read and review, I need motivation which is quite lacking right now... so PM me if you already reviewed a previous chapter ten. Thanks.

-Tremble wolf


	11. Chapter 11

Alternate Reality

Chapter 11: Keep it Clean

Location: Russia, 10 kilometers out of Novgorod

Date/time: 2553/3073 Mar 8th 15:24GST

* * *

Falcon was still piloting the tank, even though disgust was written on her face as Specter knew she wished for her mech... any mech compared to the comparably fragile hover tank. The overpowering whine of the tank's engine was only slightly drowned out by Beowulf's messing with the radio; unfortunately all the music in the area was in Russian, and only Katrina could understand it.

She was sitting next to Beowulf in the cramped space near the radio, mostly because of the heater that only reached about that far. She was busy switching through the channels when she abruptly stopped to listen to some Russian lady talk.

"What's the chic saying?" Beowulf asked, using informal words usually below his British heritage.

"She's talking about the storm... hold on." Katrina listened as intently as possible through the drowning noise of the tank. "She's talking about the storm; it appears to be cyclical occurrence, this is the biggest white out they've had for centuries."

"And we're stuck in it in this jammy piece of work." Beowulf muttered darkly, wrapping his coat closer.

"Falcon what's the status on the Condor's engines, it's pretty cold out there; is there any ice?" Specter asked, hollering over the Russian lady.

"...let's listen to something else..." Beowulf complained in the background, bringing the sound of Stravinsky's "Firebird" into the tank.

"You guy's are worse than little kids on a road trip!" Specter shouted, turning moments later with an expectant face to Falcon.

"Neg, engine and blade temperatures are normal; no ice buildup." Falcon replied mechanically, that was fine enough for him.

"...I'm getting some interference on the radio...now just static..." Beowulf turned to specter, looking somewhat confused.

"We're in a Blizzard Charlie!" Specter shouted, "You didn't expect to be without a signal? Calm down we're just two kilometers out from the ship."

"I guess this just provides better cover for us... though I wonder if the ship will still be there." Charlie was still muttering.

_just shut up._

* * *

_What the..._ Admiral Parangoski pushed herself off the ground, and reaching behind her ear she felt a small bruise as though someone had hit her. _That's odd it normally hurts more_

An odd thought to be sure, but from it it appears obvious that she had been knocked out before.

She rose to her feet, taking in her surroundings, everything seemed alright; but she knew way better than that, and instead of calling security or checking things out she pulled up her phone and addressed the comm network of the facility.

"We've been breached pack up."

* * *

When Specter saw the clearing through the ice covered windshield he jumped for joy; joy that was short lived as he hit his head on the roof. Out of the corner of his eye, Specter knew he saw a mocking smile on Falcon's face. But when he faced her, she was blank as white printer paper.

"What are you looking at huh?" Specter demanded of her.

She ignored him, and drove near the center... the blizzard was somewhat less powerful here and the body of their ship loomed into view. And when the bay door on the port side opened; she high powered the engine and pulled in.

The cold hydrolics of the door groaned as they slide against the power of the ice buildup and the wind, but they closed in time for them to reach the renewing warmth of the heat filtered mechbay. Specter welcomed the new atmosphere, flailing his arms and slapping his sides in an effort to get his blood flowing.

While a few people arched their eyebrows at him, they didn't question any further.

Specter sighed, and stalked out of the bay and took the short jaunt up to the bridge where his surveillance footage was being examined. When he entered, he look at the monitor expecting to see the procedures still under way. But the sight that met his eyes sank his disposition further than the weather had; there was a flurry of activity, people were packing, moving, cleaning, and essentially erasing all evidence they had even been there.

Specter cursed under his breath, and picked up the nearest observer and moved him out of his chair, rudely taking it in the process: no complaints met his ears, at least he wasn't paying attention to anything but the screen before him.

"How long have they been packing?" Specter asked.

"They just started several minutes ago, they've made astounding progress from what I can tell." The man's face betrayed truth about his words, and a hidden resentment for not having enough bugs planted.

Specter nodded in silent acknowledgment. _Next time I will plant more bugs; but the problem is going in without leaving a trace like last time._

Specter stood, dismissing himself from the bridge without a word, finding his way to the team's lounge. The room had almost everyone, but at least it had every one who had gone on the mission. He found Castle sitting in his chair with a worn book and a mug of steaming coffee. Falcon was busy in the corner practicing martial arts of some kind he couldn't identify. And Beowulf was actually snoring on the couch.

Specter stood over him, and slapped him on the leg. "Move."

Beowulf grunted, and sat upright in a respectable manner.

"We're all here; it's time for debriefing time." Specter stated; moments later recognizing he had already said the word 'time' with a twitch.

"Yes sir?" Castle stated, not really a question just an acknowledgment that he had her attention.

"I want to know what you say in the upper levels, what kind of models, files, rooms, and anything you think important; everything you saw is important."

"There were a lot of offices, cubicles, and... labs. I had heard that you found one below; but there were more in the upper levels. And according to a map we found there were several dormitories and training fields and courses both inside the complex and outside." Castle responded proudly.

"Right. Anything else?"

"Admiral Parangoski's computer desk was loaded with reports, they were filled with statistics for course performance for whoever they're training there."

"Sounds good." He glanced at Beowulf, he was nodding off again. "Get some rest, all of you, and Castle tell the Captain to fly us to New Mombasa; if anyone asks tell them we're on shore leave."

"Is it our true intention?" Castle asked, actually hoping he would say 'yes'.

"Is it ever?" Specter asked rhetorically.

Castle sighed and saved the spot in her book and briskly fast walked out of the room. Specter noted her irritation.

_Maybe I actually will have to schedule something; we're all burning the candle at both ends._

_

* * *

_New Mombasa: three hours later.

Specter sighed, looking over the landscape from his view on a small hill outside of the city. He had sent a very encrypted message to Sollaris to see if he was interested in the information he had gathered; even if he was no closer to finding out who had tried to get him killed.

He turned when he heard quick steps lightly pounding against the soft soil of the hill: Castle came breathing heavily to a stop near him and handed him a small note.

_Ah, paper, good old class notes... especially good now since you can't really trace them with a computer._

He read the note carefully, recognizing one of the drawbacks to handwritten letters in the process; sometimes people didn't have very poetic skills at writing even a simple character. And an entire letter composed of this would be nearly impossible if the letter had been worse.

_Obviously someone of his skills can write better; he must have been in a hurry when he wrote this._

The letter wasn't formal, it wasn't addressed to anyone, it wasn't signed, it was clean; like a grocery list.

"Don't forget to deliver, I need this for my recipe in one hour, otherwise I won't have time. You don't have to go to my house, just meet me in the Harerro parking garage on the third tier."

"Pretty clever." Specter stated, glancing over at Castle. "Where did you get it?"

"At the drop point." She stated, her hands recently washed.

"I thought he said they didn't use that garbage can." Specter stated, more to himself than anyone.

"Well they did; and I had to go back to the hotel so I could shower; and I still smell like... I don't know what." She complained, looking down to check her safari white khaki jacket and tank top; both were clean.

Specter walked back toward the town, parts already being rebuilt from the explosion caused by the prophet of Regret when he jumped in the middle of the city, not to mention the damage caused by ordinary battle.

Specter consulted a small tourist map turned a nearby corner, with Castle trailing behind him.

"...uh sir, the bus stop is that way..." She stated, referring to the opposite direction.

"Cool down." Specter stated, slowing to a reasonable pace. "We're supposed to be on shore leave, meaning we're tourists; which of course means that since we're under cover as such we need to buy stuff."

"But sir?"

"Quiet, we're here." Specter stated, walking into a nearby shop, it was filled with motorcycles of all kinds, all styles, and some specialty replicas of famous models made in the past and present.

"If we're going somewhere, we've got to do it in style; and while a mech may be stylish it attracts too much attention." Specter reasoned guiltily.

"As if that doesn't draw too much attention?" Castle stated, pointing toward a black motorcycle just designed to say "too cool to speak"

"Maybe I shouldn't have pointed at that one." Castle reconsidered. "Maybe you should get a Harley, they probably let you carry more right?"

"No, I've never been a fan of that kind, not my style, I've got to go with something that says Shadowcat like that does." Specter answered, looking at the sleek bike with a hawk's eye.

The store owner, a South African man with Dread locks and a wide grin approached. "So, you like that one?"

"I do." Specter replied. "How much is it?"

"Before I let people harass the public," he winked at Katrina, "I need to check your license to drive this kind of vehicle."

Specter almost panicked, but as a good tourist he brought out his wallet and showed the man his motorcycle license that he purchased on his last tourist occasion on Sollaris VII.

"That looks like a license to me, but I don't recognize what world it is." He eyed the ID, it had all the multiple layers of a license. "I guess the world may have been glassed; did you have any family there?"

"No, I was serving." Specter stated, hoping he wouldn't look like a fool.

"That bike costs fifteen hundred credits."

"Alright." Specter fished them out, knowing the only place he could ever spend them was on this world; considering he might not be able to buy much there anyway.

The shop's owner was a little surprised at first, probably expecting him to try to haggle it down, but nonetheless he accepted the bank transfer and went into the back to retrieve the keys.

He came back seconds later, keys in hand, and gave them to Specter; who accepted them almost greedily as the man unlocked the bike from where it had been chained down.

"You do need..." The man began.

"I'll take two bike helmets, and can I see your gloves?" Specter asked.

The whole thing, including the gloves, goggles, jackets, and helmets led to a total spent amount of credits being two thousand.

Only when they were speeding down the road did Specter ask Castle his question; she was busy trying to hold on, practically suffocating Specter and found it hard to reply.

"Is it just me, or shouldn't that have cost a lot more?"

"I think either he's going out of business, the economy is rotting, or both." She replied through clenched teeth. "Could you drive safer please?"

"Why, I think it's funny when you cling to me like that." As soon as he finished, she relaxed her grip, he could almost see her indignant blushing.

"I wouldn't have any reason to if you were a safer driver." She answered, hinting that the only reason she would have for it would be safety, not interest in him.

_I feel like a little brother again._ He chuckled under his breath, remembering how fun it had been when he would pick on his sisters.

"You know, since we're tourists, we have to try the best restaurant in town." Specter stated, hinting she was his guest.

"No, take Falcon." Castle nearly bit her tongue when she mentioned the clanner.

"Yeah, great idea, it would be explosive." Specter smiled. "Literally, you know she is offended by the very idea of romance. After all, she is a genetically engineered weapon, how could she understand?"

Castle shook her head, her laughter lost in the wind.

Harerro parking garage

John 117, the Master Chief, stood waiting in the shadows as the dark black bike slowed to a stop. His impassive, unreadable faceplate betrayed nothing.

"You're five minutes late." John stated, his deep scratchy voice hinting his irritation.

"Sorry about that; we took the scenic route." Specter replied nonchalantly. "We had to make sure no one followed us, and to upkeep our image as tourists."

"Decent excuse." John stated, allowing Specter that little.

"I have what we've got, but I have to ask, is there anyone you can go to about this?" Specter asked, handing over a small hard drive.

"I'm not without contacts." John stated. "But they were expecting me back five minutes ago." The Spartan nodded and dashed out of sight, surprising Specter at how stealthy he could be even in a one ton suit of armor.

"Castle, we have to go check on our friends; remember when I told them not to try out the nearest bar... well." He held up his PDA for her to see, there was a news report being played, showing a video of a rather large bar fight; and two of their crew were in the middle of it.

"Don't take me there sir." Castel pleaded.

"I have to get there soon as possible; team Specter has never lost, and I will make sure it stays that way." He revved the engine on his bike and sighed. "Anything on the way I could drop you off at?"

"I thought the hotel was right nearby?"

"On it." He ordered, wether he meant he was on the plan or wether he was ordering her to get on the bike; she had no idea.

"Might I ask you why you were satisfied by that short meeting?" Castle asked.

"No. Hang on."

The Bushmen Diner:

This was supposed to be a friendly bar, but now it was as violent as the Kalahari desert where its namesake came from.

Beowulf was breathing heavily in his nice suit as he threw another punch into the obviously ex-marine drunk. To Beowulf it seemed to him that every time he went out, there were people who mocked him for his style; he always made it a point to show them he knew theirs; and kicked the previously mentioned marine into the piano in the corner, one out.

He straightened his back, allowing a slight stretch before the next angry person came at him with a wild punch.

Though he was tempted to let it hit him, Beowulf sidestepped and allowed the drunk man to fall to the ground; the man was abviously too drunk to walk, much less fight.

"You cheated!" One of the assailants yelled, pointing his finger in his face, reminding him of the "friendly" poker game that they tried to cheat him on, tried to intimidate him, and when that didn't work they tried to mug him.

"Did I?" Beowulf sneered, eying the man up and down. "I think you just thought I was a wimpy tourist, and that you could make some money off of me."

"...hey it's the cops..."

Beowulf ignored the hints at intervention and slugged the man in the gut causing him to curl up and fall to the floor. All in all, his fight had been with nearly half of the bar's customers, it seemed as though they just didn't like outsiders, or were just looking for a fight. It was at this point, where Beowulf was examining all the groaning and unconcious, when Specter slid across the polished floor and into the room.

Specter cursed when he noticed there was no one for him to fight. "Why didn't you play easy?"

"I was..." Beowulf arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because this fight was on the local news, and I wanted to join in." Specter replied, looking at the carnage. "You're a gentleman Charlie, not a drunk on a rampage, and now I have to pay for your damages..." Specter went up to the bar tender and fished out his newly accuired checkbook.

"What are the damages?" Specter asked, eying the man to amke sure he didn't overexaggerate.

"Two thousand?"

"Good enough, could I have a drink; anything that's not smashed?" Specter sat idly on the nearest upright stool at the bar, watching the remains of the glass and mirror before him to have a good view of the door.

The bar tender pocketed the check and fished out a cold, thick glass mug and filled it with a dark ale. The bar seemed to find itself more orderly as several drunks stumbled out and back to their homes, and others helped set tables and chairs back in place. It seemed Charlie was content with just sitting at the lonely table behind him to nurse his newly acquired Bailey's.

"You know," Specter stated, drinking deeply from his mug. "This is probably the best way I know to end the day."

Charles nodded. "This is a fine way to end the day, but I know of other, better ways."

"Yeah, a good quick ride through a volitile battle zone in scout mechs; that's the best... when you live." Specter answered.

* * *

Okay guys, I will keep updating as much as possible to keep this story going and to make it more interesting.

However, there is a problem, I need input of some kind to be motivated to keep writing; because there are other things I can do with my time. So please read and review, or PM me, because I would deeply appreciate it.

-Tremble Wolf


	12. Chapter 12

Alternate Reality

Chapter 12: "Clean up, clean up, everybody do your share."

Location: New Mombasa ruins, Africa, Kenya.

Date/time: 2553/3073 Mar 12th 20:32 GST

_"Where are you Charlie?" _Specter demanded, his heart pounding as he dove into another side alley; plasma bolts and spike rounds impaling the wall. He rolled carefully and quietly into the frame of a kicked down door and breathed easy; leveling his modified laser pistol. His eyes scanned the area inside his limited view; as far as he could tell they had moved on.

Specter would have cursed loudly in any other battle zone; except he wasn't in his mech, but wore a black leather jacket and cap... civilian clothes.

_I'm just lucky I brought my sidearm._

It was dark, and heavy rain pelted the streets and the roof above his head. The neon signs for various places, and flat screens still projected their messages with weak light that cast a dreary mood to the fight.

Specter had only taken one step when he heard a beast like howl half a block behind him; his dark clothing helped him blend with the dark, but his unfortunately strong human smell had alerted them of his presence. A Brute glared in his direction, his blue armor and spiked helmet marking him as a minor.

_And he thinks I smell?_ Specter thought; raising the pistol to eye level, his finger depressed the trigger and sent a red beam of energy into the beast's face and melted through the helmet. The Brute fell instantly, still semi alive, but doomed to death with a missing part of his already limited brain.

Specter's current mission was to find his PDA; he had dropped it when he ran for cover, and that had been several blocks to the north. He was pretty sure that they would be hired to help fight off the Brutes, so the PDA was his contact his base, and he needed that.

He slunk his way through several alleyways before he found it blocked off in the direction he wanted; this caused him to climb the wall and crawl on the roof; he didn't care about his clothes or the rain, only that he live and complete his self appointed mission. The square where he dropped the PDA was just ahead; but there were about fifteen problems with his plan: five brutes and ten grunts.

Specter knew that as soon as he fired, his location would be known, and he would be swarmed.

"Cut off the head..." Specter whispered, aiming as best as he could for the head or body of the golden armored Brute that stood in the center to order the others with harsh barks of speech.

His red beam had been set to pulse; allowing his laser to fire a continuous beam for several quick seconds. His beam helped act as a tracer because when he stopped firing; the head of the leader rolled to the ground and commotion resounded. Several brutes charged his location in a berserk dash, several ran to check the dead leader, and all the grunts ran around wailing.

Specter's pistol cooled down in time for him to burn the brains out of the closest Brute before having to run and jump from his roof top onto the next building.

_I'm not conditioned for this kind of fighting._ Specter thought as he breathed quick and hard, and as he slid down the broken ceiling of the next building and into a small store.

One Brute stumbled in after him, and slid onto his face with a growl, glare snapped up to Specter, and he would have gored him had he not been lasered between the eyes. Specter relaxed; they thought he was a civilian, and probably thought he kept running. That was his main reason for staying in the room to hide under and behind some debris. The secondary reason was that his heart and breathing were way too fast.

"...you go check it out..." Specter heard a brute grab one of the grunts and watched as the horrified grunt fell on its rear onto the floor of the room.

"...I no see him..." The grunt answered in a wavering tone.

Of course they weren't speaking English, Specter had _acquired _a translating device from the Office of Naval Intelligence.

When the patience of the brutes grew weary, two of the beasts jumped into the room with their guns raised. No one saw him, and the old and stale smell of human was being washed away by the rain.

"...no humans here..."

"...see master?"

Specter wasted no time, as soon as they turned to leave, he crawled from his hiding spot and fired his pistol in three quick bursts; one in the back of the head of each alien: they all slumped to the ground.

_That's four, and one; leaves one and nine._

Specter climbed back up the debris and onto the roof of the partially collapsed building, from there he could barely see the square between two buildings. Another drop ship flew to the ground, its belly glowed purple as its gravity lift activated and dropped eight more grunts to the ground, several alien barriers, and two Ghost scout vehicles.

_It just gets worse and worse._

Specter knew his pistol was powerful, its only drawback was its concentrated beam. So without a second to lose he switched to pulse and fired a three second beam into what looked like a fuel or coolant tank on the underbelly of the ship as dropped its occupants. The beam quickly cut in and ignited fuel and released plasma into the air; the resulting explosion showering the miniature LZ in shrapnel.

His location was forgotten as the last remaining Brute was crushed by debris, along with several grunts. The rest ran and hid behind their barriers and forsook their Ghosts. Specter saw this as his chance and slid down the sloping roof to the street. With quick sprinting steps he dashed into the square; his slide into the square was complimented with several bursts of his pistol and downed four more of the shorter aliens.

When his momentum slowed and he was about to stop; Specter rolled forward to where his PDA was lying near a dead grunt. He rolled again, and picked up the PDA in the process, and when he rolled to his feet he shot the two grunts before him and dashed into the closest alley.

"...what that?"

"...killed my friend..."

"...I kill you human..."

The quick patter, or shuffle, of alien feet met his ears. A trio of grunts, followed closely by four more, ran past where he hid behind a garbage canister. They slowed as their panicked lungs needed air and turned with horror when Specter appeared behind them; announcing his presence with three bursts of his pistol.

In all he killed four, one of his bursts hit the methane tank of a grunt and exploded in a crack of light. The last grunts yelled and primed grenades in their hands.

_Oh..._ Specter dove back to the square and rolled to cover behind the nearest building's wall. The explosion of three plasma grenades demolished have of the buildings that bordered the alley and the heat cleansed it of bodies and filth.

"He dead?" One of the survivors asked another.

"He ran..."

Specter rolled into view of the alley, but when he pulled his trigger, nothing happened.

"Crap!" Specter dove back toward where a forsaken Ghost was parked behind the barriers. He jumped into the uncomfortable seat and grabbed the two joystick like controls and activated about every thing he could. He finally, after about twelve seconds, managed to start the Ghost and figured how to move it by moving the joysticks. He overpowered the Ghost's engines and, not knowing or having the time to figure out how to use its cannons, Specter plowed the Ghost into the emerging trio of Grunts.

Florescent blue blood spattered the Ghost and Specter when he plowed to a halt roughly into the wall, throwing Specter into the wall and to the ground. He groaned and brought his PDA to his eyes and typed in a message to Beowulf.

"Any contracts?" It was a simple note, but the reply was not so.

"No, the UNSC has not the time to provide any contracts, they only ask that we join in their fight. Where are you? If you need to be picked up Hannibal and I are prepped for a scout run."

"I'll be there soon, go heavy not light, and prep my Templar for me." Specter pocketed his PDA, not even waiting for an answer. His ship was outside of town about two miles into the hills. He picked himself up and sat more easily into the seat of his captured Ghost. This time he was able to work with it in the alley for about fifteen minutes until he was comfortable with its controls.

When he was ready, he sped through the alley and back onto the street, his ride would be without contacts as all the enemies in his area were moving back to investigate the destroyed LZ.

He arrived about ten minutes later at his ship. The bay doors were open, and even though he received an odd look from the techs when he zipped in; they didn't pester him... as usual.

"You, come over here," Specter ordered the nearest tech. "Take apart this machine and see if there's anything we could use to upgrade our systems... you're into old and alien tech right?"

The technician just nodded and went over to procure some tools. It was about this time that Specter looked up to see Beowulf waving from his captured Mad dog, aka Vulture. The mech had a long and all body that somehow resembled the head of a large bird. It had two missile racks on either side of its cockpit and two small unassuming arms connected to them. There was also a handy "chin gun" hard point that could be outfitted with any weapon system of comparable size.

Hannibal was not the type of person to go for a large amount of missiles; his Thor, a humanoid mech with a rounded missile rack next to its offset cockpit and two good sized arms capable of holding all heavy weapon available.

Specter's Templar was a new design brought in by Davion's finest engineers; probably a fit member of his new mechs like the Victor; named after the revolutionary leader Victor Steiner-Davion.

His Templar was actually an assualt class mech: it weighed into the eighty-through-one hundred tonnage range. He always had loved Gauss rifles: this mech was capable of holding a good amount. He had stripped it of almost all its heat sinks and had fitted the mech with two Clan Gauss rifles as they were as powerful as conventional tech but a good bit lighter. Then he added what the clanners hadn't made, an extra light-Gauss rifle. The light Gauss was smaller and lighter than Gauss rifles and dealt a decent amount of damage... and with an unbeatable range of twelve hundred meters it made a great sniping tool.

Specter ran to the side and climbed up the ladder to the catwalk that provided his entrance to his cockpit. His hurried motions and quick commands to the computer brought his mech online in seconds... his cooling vest slightly crooked and his nuerohelmet loose.

His Templar rose to a comfortable stance as it came under the control of his mind, the myomer muscles of its parts calibrating and stretching.

"Where are they?" Specter asked Castle through his comm, ignoring the computerized voice that listed the condition of all his mech's parts.

"I'm uploading your first Nav point sir, there seems to be a large contingent of vehicles and infantry on a wide road just a kilometer away." Castle replied, her comm had feedback as though she was still trying to position it.

"Specter lance what's you status?"

"Ready op." Beowulf chuckled darkly. "You want to squish some bugs?"

"Hannibal?"

"I'm green." He replied, his deeper voice was light and cheerful.

Specter began to march his Templar through the bay doors when he was stopped by the voice of someone else coming online.

"You can not be serious going into a battle without me." Falcon declared, she piloted a tall Mad Cat mark II, basically a taller and more heavily armored version of the Vulture.

"Castle, are there any more last minute sign ups?" Specter asked with mock annoyance.

"There are volunteers..."

"I do need someone to watch after the ship." Specter reasoned. "Falcon are you ready op?"

"Aff sir." She nudged the throttle and stalked out the door of the ship; her agitated movements showed she had been away from a mech for too long.

_I guess it's what she lives for..._

"Falcon, I'll take point." Specter brushed past her, and rounded the corner of the nearest building. From where he was he could tell that the contingent of troops were perpendicular to them on the street two blocks down. "So Castle, that's a kilometer?" Specter teased when a stray beam of purple energy burned a hole into his armor.

"I said about." She replied, obviously annoyed.

Specter sped up to about fifty kilometer per hour and toggled his zoom. He was in range for all three Gauss rifles and he sighted on the nearest moving Wraith tank. The bulbous vehicle turned to face him and began to glow blue; but Specter had fired a split second before him and crushed the vehicle with the Gauss slug. There were several brutes who dove away from the explosion, only to be picked off by Falcon's pulse lasers.

"It seems we've reached the end of the contingent, let's move in on their flank." Specter ordered. "Falcon, you and Hannibal tank the left side of the street while Beowulf and I take the right."

He had a chorus of 'yes sirs' and one 'Aff', and sped up to seventy kilometers. The tail end of this part of the contingent had three Shadow troop transports. And as soon as he saw them, he toggled his zoom and fired his Gauss rifles, one for each. Specter knew it would take about six to eight seconds for his Gauss rifles to recycle so he pulled slightly back and allowed Beowulf to pull ahead and fire his SRMs into the groups of startled infantry; miniature explosions threw them into the air and into the buildings.

Beowulf didn't cheer, he only stalked the street and peered into the corners like a hawk: his mech looked exactly like some ferocious alien bird of prey hunting for carrion. Beowulf was satisfied after a few moments of searching and followed after Specter as he ploughed his Templar through the rubble.

"There's something exciting about piloting a thirteen meter vehicle." Specter stated, his hand twitching eagerly on his joystick; his thumb dangerously close to the red alpha strike button.

They continued down the street, the sounds of all kinds of gunfire hailed their ears as they saw Hannibal and Falcon had caught up with the rest of the contingent.

"Things are hot here sir!" Hannibal stated in a worried voice; his blackened Thor was walking with a slight limp and several bundles of his right leg's myomer were splayed out like snapped muscle. His Thor's right arm extended, it reached forward and a blue crackle of light from his particle projector cannon struck a nearby chopper and incinerated most of it in a flash of blue light.

"Here comes the cavalry." Specter reminded, his shoulder mounted light-Gauss rifle spat out it deadly cargo; the slug flew with a miniature boom and pierced through a large set of barricades. Specter's short lived triumph paled as he saw three Phantom drop ships and one large red dot appear on his radar.

_I wish we had reinforcements._

Specter turned to the lead drop ship; it held a Wraith mortar tank on its underbelly. His light-Gauss still had five seconds to recycle so Specter toggled his clan Gauss and fired the slug at the nose of the ship. The slug crushed in the nose, mangling the vehicle, but only slowed it. Specter fired his last ready Gauss rifle into the crushed nose of the leading Phantom and pierced a hole from stem to stern; causing the ship to explode in a blast of blue plasma.

"Guys..." Specter cautioned. His light Gauss rifle charged; he leveled his sights on the side of the second, descending ship, and fired. This was, as he figured, their sweet spot. A weaker place where he could hit their vitals. The slug smashed the fuel, coolant, or whatever it was that Specter had no idea what, and demolished the ship while it had just begun to regurgitate its men.

"Fire on that last Phantom!" Specter yelled, his weapons recycling and his mech's arms waving in an agitated manner.

The three focused their fire on the ship, in seconds in fell to the rain of power.

"Sir, is the ground shaking for you as well?" Falcon asked, her voice was actually sounding nervous... and she never sounded nervous, especially when she piloted a mech.

"Sir incoming enemy contacts! They're Word of Blake!" Beowulf declared, his sights were watching a trio of assault class mechs crush the remaining aliens. One an Atlas, a tall humanoid and imposing figure of raw power, another a stalking Daishi, the most powerful Clan assault mech in existence, and another a hulking Fafnir, capable of loading a duo of the heaviest mech class Gauss rifles ever made. A three had the red, blood-stained hand insignia imprinted on their chassis and stalked toward Specter's lance.

"I am the Preceptor who has been dogging you mercenary... and now it is time for us to cleanse this world of those who would defile the home of Humanity. After we have cleaned this world you and I shall have a duel, one that even a Clanner would respect; a Trial of Possession. You have no choice to agree, either you help us and fight me later, or you fight me now." The Preceptor had a snide tone, one that made Specter want to cringe at its ugly pride.

"You leave me no choice then." Specter replied, as much as he wanted the help... he zoomed in on the face of the Preceptor's Atlas and fired his alpha strike... Three Gauss rifle slugs crushed the cockpit of the mech and sent it careening to the ground. "I guess I'll fight now."

* * *

You wondering how they got back? So am I... well not really. All will be revealed to you in time... you excited to see an intense and slightly even matched battle? Well, please review because you really have no excuse. So thank you for reading and for reviewing, for those of you who do. I hope and plan to update soon.

-Tremble Wolf


	13. Chapter 13

Alternate Reality

Chapter 13: "The Real Cavalry"

Location: New Mombasa ruins, Africa, Kenya.

Date/time: 2553/3073 Mar 13th 2:17 GST

Specter immediately fired his jets and leaped forward to dodge the Daishi's counter attack. Three Clan LBX 20 scatter-shot rounds pulverized the ground where Specter had been only moments before. Specter noticed that the Daishi's most powerful weapons needed six seconds to reload, he also noticed that they were placed in the most armored sections of the mech's torso, providing him with a blind spot on either side where He wouldn't get shredded like a piece of paper. Hannibal jumped his mech onto high ground, landing in a cloud of smoke on top of the pile of Phantom rubble. He fired his Particle cannons and scorched the side of the Fafnir.

Falcon twitched with expert efficiency only gained from her training that had begun the moment she had existed. She dodged the dual blast of the Fafnir's heavy gauss rifles and fired her auto-lock medium range missiles, a salvo of thirty missiles streaked across the rubble and blasted armor from around the right gauss rifle's barrel.

Beowulf darted forward like a hawk, his short range missiles perfect for a close fight as he had five racks of them and they recycled in seconds. He fired his small missiles in quick succession, every two seconds another flight being ready to fire.

Specter brought his attention back to the Daishi as the six seconds were up and a trio of shotgun rounds crunched into his side. The armor splintered, cracked, and shattered in a brilliant display of sparks and light. The shock nearly caused Specter to fall, but he used his momentum to fool his opponent, and just as it seemed he was going to go down, he aimed up at the Daishi's left leg and fired all three of his gauss rifles one after the other into the leg's knee joint. The joint, crushed, couldn't bear the weight of the hundred ton mech and the Daishi fell into the dust. Specter noticed with glee as the Daishi's cockpit exploded outward and the pilot ejected in a tiny flash compared to the actual size of the walking tank.

The Fafnir by now stumbled pitifully, though Specter could tell that Hannibal's Thor was missing his right arm, and that Falcon's nose was crunched awkwardly. Only Beowulf had avoided damage, his heavy but light-foot mech darting circles around the beast while continually firing salvo after salvo of SRM's. The Fafnir's pilot panicked as the action swirled around him, and he too ejected into the sky.

"I'm the Preceptor!" Specter mocked over the comm. "What a bumbling fool..." He trailed off, describing how pompous and pathetic the now dead leader of the WOB was.

"Specter, we're all clear for now sir, I've got someone on the line that you'll want to speak to." Katrina voiced this with a hint of success as if the skirmish were over or as if they had somehow found help.

* * *

Peter stood in the mechbay of the Overlord as it descended through Earth's atmosphere. Luckily his magnetic soles kept him where he was despite the shaking of the ground. He glanced over his shoulder to where Victor waited by his Daishi the "Prometheus" talking with one of the techs. Victor seemed pretty upset about something, his face was read with exersion hot even considering their travel through fire into the atmosphere of this world. Peter, knowing his older brother well, decided it would be best to find out what was the deal. So he stalked over there, taking deliberate steps to avoid falling as the ground shook beneath him. As he got closer he could hear some of the conversation.

"...I asked two weeks ago that it be repaired! How come no one worked on it this whole time?"

"Sir, right after the taking of Tharkad we had to repair the regular mechs as they were in the most damage.'

"I don't care how damaged they were! You had a week since we got here, why..." Victor sighed and pushed his hands into his pockets. "Just repair it now I have no time for this."

It was at this time that Peter strode up calmly and examined their faces. The Tech was annoyed but was trying hard not to let it show as he forced a placating expression onto his face. Victor was utterly exasperated as he waved his hands and walked off to look at the other mechs. Peter knew him well, he hated having to fight in anything but his favorite mech with his favorite specifications. The Prometheus had taken quite a bit of damage before the end of the conflict when they finally put his sister behind bars and dethroned his aunt Nondi Steiner.

Victor finally decided that he would have to go with the mech that was deliberately named after him. The humanoid Victor was a balanced mech, capable of bearing nearly every weapon system available to a mechwarrior: and a Prince had resources far greater than any common soldier. Victor ordered the techs into a flurry of motion as they outfitted the mech to fit his needs. Soon the Victor was repainted,had fresh armor plating, its right arm bearing a heavy gauss rifle, his left arm carrying an LBX 20 shotgun, and an extended range large laser set into his mech's left shoulder. Victor climbed up the ladder as the dropship hit dirt and the doors began to groan open.

He reviewed the plans they had set before their arrival. They had tracked the last WOB ship to Terra and found an alien fleet in orbit around the planet. He had set his small flotilla of ships against the aliens while his dropship descended to the center of the action. He knew that this was a different universe, and as such the Word of Blake didn't control Terra in this universe. He intended to keep it that way. He determinedly punched in his codes and pulled his mech into a cold start. He pounded out the door and surveyed the area with his sensors, ruined buildings, rubble, crushed bodies, and smoke filled the horizon. He swiveled so as to get a view of the three mechs trailing after him. Peter had forsaken his still damaged Fafnir and strode proudly in a Mad Cat, one of the best mechs in existence. It had two missile racks, one on either side of a snub-nosed torso with two arms underneath the missile racks. It had backward knee joints, and its polished paint glistened with light, even through the smoke, and played off the dangerous CSTRKMRM20 warheads above his shoulders. His arms carried a particle cannon each, and its speed and maneuverability put it at the front of their formation in seconds.

"Jealous?" Peter asked. the nose underneath the cockpit had a painted toothy smile of a shark.

"Just going for second best." Victor replied. "Let's go to the center of the conflagration, one our way down we detected battlemech IFF's heading in that direction."

"Moving." Peter answered, perching on the ruined carcass of dead Wraith tank, ducking his nose down to inspect the wreckage. "I've never seen anything like _this_."

"Focus Peter." Victor chided.

* * *

Katrina chuckled lightly. "Your _real_ employer." She cut the line and switched over Specter's signal so he could now hear light breathing coming into his ears.

"Yes who is this?" Specter demanded, he scanned his surroundings seriously and when he decided it was safe he placed on foot victoriously on the remains of the Preceptor's Atlas.

"This is Prince Victor Steiner-Davion." The voice was completely level and serious. And Specter was sure he had heard it before.

"Mind if I ask why you're here?" He idly tapped his fingers against his command console.

"Specter, this is Peter." Some one else broke in. "We followed the Word of Blake to Terra after they followed you into the wormhole."

"You might not have seen it as it appeared right as your ship jumped." Victor cut in.

"Where are they?" Peter asked.

"I think either dead or hiding on their new ship." Specter yawned. "Follow my signal and we will examine the ship ourselves"

* * *

_Specter sighed, their search for the odd work of ONI seemed so promising. He was suspicious that the Word of Blake might have been to this universe before. But there was no way to be sure. "I'll have to investigate around here some more before I go back."_

Victor and Peter caught up with them within minutes. They had minimal directions from Castle of the whereabouts of the WOB ship, and got lost in the twisting corners of the ruined city more than a few times. It seemed like an age had passed when Hannibal jetted his mech into air and landed in a cloud of dust upon the roof of an especially plasma-ravaged building. He announced his finding with an anxious taint in his voice.

"They seem to have been hit numerous times by plasma weaponry. The ship is mangled and crash-landed in the side of the far building." Hannibal paused noticeably as he examined the scene further. "It looks like they crashed into some kind of factory, they are dangerously close to the molten steel."

Specter had had jets installed in his Templar and eagerly jumped his mech to Hannibal's Side. He soon saw the worst part of it: "There's Covenant swarming all over it sir, and they seem to be very interested in what's inside."

The others walked around so they could get a view. Victor took a sharp breath. "What is that Adept doing? Look!"

They all watched in shock as the aforementioned Adept walked slowly down the open ramp that led into the ship and strode proudly up to a large hulking Jiralhanae Captain. There were pointed fingers and raised voices, and even obcene gestures from both of them. The final resuilt was the Brute grabbing the Adept and raising himself above his head.

The Adept swung out of the alien's grasp and activated an alien plasma sword of a different design that Specter had never seen. The sword created the shape of a large two-handed longsword reminiscent of the Medieval Crusaders' swords. The Brute jumped back as the Adept swung at the alien's arm.

"Should we?" Hannibal started.

"Quiet!" All the others screamed at him as they watched in fascination. The smaller aliens created a circle around the two combatants. It looked oddly like a Clan trial of Position. They were a blur of motion, but finally the Adept severed the head of the brute and knelt with his blade's point digging into the earth. He glanced at the Unngoy and motioned with his sword back at the ship as if he were ordering them to do something.

This answered Specter's question. "Yep, they've been here before... that guy has a lot of experience with those aliens."

"Then why are they here?" Victor asked.

"Maybe they've been trying to save humanity and take over at the same time while subverting the aliens." Hannibal suggested.

Falcon merely coughed. "That was a good duel."

"I think we need to stop this and get some answers." Specter stated loudly over the comm.

"No Specter, we need to go about this carefully. Do some investigative work and trace these leads to find the true source of this. We must find out how influenced this universe is by them." Victor ordered. "Go to passive sensor and find a place to hide. I take it you already made them your enemy."

Specter's Templar shuffled on its feet uneasily. "Yes sir. We'll hide out somewhere and check our leads."

"Wait, you already have leads?" Peter asked.

"Well, yeah. I only just remembered that while I was spying on a government project I saw the Word of Blake handprint insignia with a sword emblazoned on the lab coats of the doctors." Specter replied as his memory sparked.

"What kind of project was this?"

"They were augmenting someone's body with steroids, encasing their bones, and many other things, why?" Specter asked... "Wait..."

"Manei Domini." Peter confirmed. "It seems they want to have their presence here without diminishing their number in our universe."

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

* * *

Alternate Reality

Chapter 14: "Following Stale Breadcrumbs"

Location: Ruins of New Mombasa Kenya

Time/ 5:27 GST

Day/Year Mar 13th 2553(or 3073)

* * *

Specter leaned back in his leather chair as he eyed Victor and Peter who sat across from him on his couch in his lounge. "Tell me," he wavered unexpectedly, "What should I do, now that I know of Word of Blake influence in this universe?" He tapped his fingers agitatedly on the smooth polished wood coffee-table before him. "What are your orders?"

Victor smirked. "We had always known that the Word of Blake were advanced, but to think that they have known about other universes first hand for some time is quite startling. They have probably infiltrated every office in this society. After-all, time was in their hands and they probably chose when to send their people in." Victor nodded to Peter who sat easily to his right.

Peter picked up the conversation where his brother had left off. "Specter, John, we cannot allow the Word of Blake to control this universe, they would be completely free to take ours because we would not be able to tell where they were. They could mass their armies right outside of our worlds in this universe and then transport into ours, we could not stop them. We need you to expose their influence, we need you to stay here and bring them down."

"Are you serious?" Specter asked incredulously. "I'm not a fit spy..."

"You'll have to grow into it Specter, you're thirty-seven now, still young enough that you can learn. We'll set up a drop point where we will send equipment for you and your team. But we have to return and fight them in our own realm. No one expects a mercenary unit to do what we are asking you to do, we will provide all you will need, only you'll have to dig deep, break laws, and maybe even break your way out of prison, anything if you can find the root of the Word of Blake's influence and eliminate it." Victor pressed.

"I cannot refuse." Specter stated calmly. "But I'm not used to being given missions like this..." He faltered as he could not find a word to fit his meaning.

"You'll do fine." Peter answered and patted Specter on the shoulder as he stood and walked out the door. "Only come back if it's done or you need more men Specter, of course that means you'll have to get the information from the Word of Blake. We cannot give it to you for fear you might abandon your mission." He sighed. "Sorry."

* * *

_March 14th 2553: 13:12 GST_

_Location: Oslo: Norway_

Specter moved with the rocking motion of the boat. It swayed as it plowed through waves of frigid water, and twisted his stomach in unrealistic contortions. He clasped a hand over his mouth as he resisted the urge to vomit, he cursed himself. _I should be fine! I live through battles, I fight in battlemechs on all fields, I fall through the atmosphere in hot-drops, and I suffer through the very depths of Dante's Inferno when I fire one set of lasers on a summer day! Why do I suffer when a boat moves back and forth?_

He swayed and leaned against the metal table that occupied their unofficial headquarters. Castle stepped uneasily into the room with a nauseous look. He nodded politely and gripped the edge of the table.

"Maybe we should've gotten a Sub sir." She smiled knowingly as she noticed his green face.

"Yes well, where are the others?" Specter looked over her shoulder to see three more people enter the room: Falcon with her slanted eyebrows, high cheekbones, and elfish features, Beowulf with his upper-class British style of combed short hair, a trimmed beard, and custom-cut suit. And Last, Bullseye with his informal outfit of dark bluejeans, a black polo t-shirt, and unshaven stubble and his hair gelled forward into a kind of point.

"Our contact have supplied us with information on the new whereabouts of the SPARTAN program. It appears that they, by the direction of Mrs. Parangosky have moved to a remote island about fifteen kilometers to the northwest of our seaboard position. By satellite images, we've determined that the best way to find access is to swim in environmental suits from five hundred meters away from the isolated section on the southern tip of the island." Specter surveyed their sick faces, that is except for Falcon who seemed perfectly fine.

"Sir, won't we freeze to death?" Bullseye asked as he whipped a comb out of his pocket and fixed his hair.

"Not if we wear our suits... and swim fast." Specter's uncertainty leaked out and into the room. "I don't like it any more than you do, but this is the only way onto the island. That's the easy part. We have to find a way into the facility. Our contact has provided us with four suits of prototype SPI armor. It is best suited for stealth so please don't reveal yourselves, the active camo should help, but silence is key." He paced before the table, growing more calm as his mind was focused away from the rocking of the ship. "We need to access the air ducts and filtration systems and enter the maze of utility tunnels. This facility is honeycombed with many layers of tunnels, vents, shafts, rooms, ladders, elevators, and even more so clustered with guards and checkpoints. They are trained well and their sole purposed is to keep people out."

"Sir?" Falcon piped up as she stood rigidly next to Beowulf.

"Yes?" Specter inclined his head to allow her comment.

"We are armed, quiaff?" She asked encouragingly.

"Minimally." Specter crossed his arms. "I want knives, equipment, and one sidearm of choice; that is one quiet sidearm of choice." He narrowed his eyes. "Got it?"

"Yes sir!" They replied.

"I want zero comm chatter when we're out there; get used to red lights and green lights." Specter nearly doubled over laughing when they all did the sign-language for 'green'. But he knew he had to keep his face blank no matter what. "We'll be reaching the island in about twenty minutes, so suit up and meet me on the deck."

* * *

(On Deck)

* * *

Castle's voice came over the comm with a hint of amusement inside Specter's helmet of his Semi-Powered Infiltration suit. Or SPI armor. "Commander, is this what you referred to as environmental suits?"

"Sure is." Specter laughed. "That is because it works like it and can't take the damage an Elemental's armor can."

Beowulf cut in. "What else beside an Elemental's battlesuit can take such punishment?"

"Nothing besides a tank, or a light mech..." Bullseye trailed off.

Specter stepped toward the railing. His suit was completely sealed. And he was still getting used to moving around in it. He had activated the camo, and had difficulty trying to keep his bearings. "Alright, clear the comms and follow me, I want no more broadcasts." Specter leaned over the railings and dove: his armored, invisible form cut through the waves and entered the chill depths. He cut his arms and legs into a fluid motion as he swam to an even depth of about three meters, and followed his Nav marker displayed on his HUD.

They had decided that the short swim would be fun, but Specter was pleasently surprised to find his suit integrate keep a steady warm temperature. They swam in formation, gazing past the floes of ice and even seals that spun around them, oblivious to their presence. Ahead they could see the looming landmass, an island of wind-chisled rock that jutted out from the sea. As they reached the point of rock where they were supposed to land, Specter noticed several out buildings, and manmade structures filled with equipment filling the island. There was even a large dock filled with men as they unloaded crate after crate filled with unknown goods.

Specter scanned the docks and noticed a set of guards watching the work with bored posture. _That's odd_ He thought.

Rain and wind attacked his lance as they crawled up the rocks, thankful that the sun was hidden behind the clouds because it made it even harder for their wavering forms to be seen. To the left of the set of guards was a secluded maintenance hatch hidden behind machinery and busy workers. Specter changed the Nav point and had it sit directly on the hatch. Three green lights winked on his HUD, and he started their roundabout trek. Unfortunatly they found the best way to get to the hatch was by running between the busy machinery as the workers built more sections of the facility. It seemed like the best time to get in.

Specter leaned over a rock and thought, not for the first time, of Frodo and Sam as they looked on the Black Gate, wondering how they would get through. He had read the books several times, and in this case he decided they were looking at the pass of Cirith Ungol instead of the Black Gate.

He stepped onto the deck, but because of the loud construction work no one heard him. He ran for the grate signaling it was good-to-go to his lance-mates. He dodged and weaved through a series of men and machines as he focused on his target. He slid to a stop next to the maintenance hatch and started to unscrew the entrance. All the workers were so focused on their respective tasks, Specter was able to unscrew all the things which would hold the door in place. He placed the screw in a small compartment of his armor and sent the signal to his lance.

He opened the door only long enough for Falcon to dash in, before he closed it. He waited for several seconds to make sure no one had noticed before he led Beowulf sneak in. He checked again and let Bullseye in. Then he placed magnets on the back of the grate, opened it, and snuck in before making sure the grate was completely secure.

He looked around in the dark tunnel. His lance were already ahead of him waiting at what was likely an intersection. He could tell because his HUD showed their position with little blue arrows. Specter searched his HUD and activated his nightvision, Bullseye was facing him enhanced with green color waving with his active camo off. He had ordered them earlier to switch it off when able so it would not overheat; Specter hated overheated equipment.

They all snuck down a corridor, careful to save the nav location of their exit in their map. The path led down a long corridor branched with many exits, up, down, left, right, but their given schematics led them through the maze to one last grate. half an hour had past during their time inside, and Specter ordered them to reactivate their active camo. They stood in a tall part of the maze, and before them in the gloom was a wall with a small hole near the cieling. Specter jumped, and quietly slid into the hole. He found himself inside a cramped passage that led through an uncovered grate to a dark and emtpy room. He slid carefully out and climbed down head first.

He was in some kind of warehouse deep in the denter of the complex. But according to his plan, they still had to take a path down into the heart of the island. Five meters left, and ten forward was a small shaft about a meter in diameter, it led all the way down the length of the complex, and they had to repel and exact three hundred meters down before reaching their desired access point. He leaned in the shute through a small hole and bolted climbing lock just a meter above the entrance hole. Specter had known, more specifically been informed, that there were numerous amounts of coiled cable he could use to rappel the desired distance.

He retrieved one coil of 100-meter long cable and securely fastened it to the lock he had bolted just above his opening. When he was finished, he retrieved his Automatic Ascention Clamp from his belt and gripped the clamp and his cable. He slid down precisely 98 meters and while he hung from his belt that was connected to his locked clamp another two meters he bolted another locking point for the cable. He secured the end of the 100-meter cable and slid up 100 meters and exited the shute.

Several more minutes went by as he let his lance-mates do what he had just done to extent their reach to two hundred, and eventually three hundred meters. When their line was finished, Specter and the others who were waiting at the top slid down one after the other until they all exited into an empty office cloaked in complete black. Specter motioned for Beowulf to peek outside the office and check the hall.

Beowulf slipped outside, his position arrow shrinking and bobing as it moved away. The green light flashed from Beowulf, and everyone else sidled out. Their objective was the empty and unfiished office of Vice Admiral Parangosky. Their goal was to see if she was tied in with the Word of Blake, and to bug her entire office with bugs that would only be activated when it detected body heat.

Specter snuck into the unfinished office and retrieved his complete collection of bugs. He had to deactivate his camo in order to see his hands, and he set to work opening one of the pens that filled a metal container. He delicately placed a inside of the case, in such a way that it would not be seen it the pen were opened, or refilled. He placed a bug inside of the lamp's head which sat next to a dead computer., and every other item that could fit something, he even placed some inside cracks in the metal of the desk, in the chair, and in the wall and floor.

Fifteen minutes of hard laborious work passed as they dutifully finished their objective.

Specter had just started wiping his hands with satisfaction when he noticed the light of the office flash on, blinding him as he had been working with nightvision, and an older woman's voice cut into his ears.

"Stand down Spartans." She ordered.

Specter looked at her, she had raised a rather large shotgun and had four real Spartans behind her with raised rifles.

"Just what are you doing in here?" She demanded. "My office is off limits." She walked straight up to Specter. "Just what is your designation?"

Specter realised that his contact had given them Spartan armor, hence the confusion. _Hah! That was smart._

"Ma'am." Specter stated politely.

"Tell me." Her voice was harsh, cutting like a plasma sword. The Spartans behind her raised their weapons in a more menacing fashion.

"They're not with us ma'am." The leader stated in a monotone.

"Take them to the cells, and isolate them. I will _talk_ with them later." The Vice Admiral turned her back and waved Specter off as if he were of no importance.

Specter turned his thoughts away as rough hands grabbed his wrists and forced them behind his back, oddly enough he had the impression that his captors were short, and looked too young to be wearing ther armor... almost like teens. He discounted the thought when his personal escort shoved him through the door and pressed a gun between his shoulderblades.

* * *

Sorry it's taken so long for me to update. But I hope it's getting more interesting. And of course I was going to come back to the whole spy thing, but, Specter's not perfect.

Please review, every single one is appreciated. Besides, it is incentive for me to write, and you guys want that, right, RIGHT?

-Tremble wolf


	15. Chapter 15

* * *

Alternate Reality

Chapter 15: "Next Move"

Location: Arctic Ocean: ONI facility

March 14th 22:15 GST 2553(or 3073)

* * *

Specter paced his cell's entire five square meter length. It didn't help that they had been captured but at least they had finished placing bugs in every conceivable spot of her office. His team had their armor confiscated and they were now wearing orange jumpsuits that were courtesy of their captors.

The man outside of his cell began again with a cough. "Let's try again." He sounded annoyed, exhausted, and as if he felt it were pointless for him to waste his time there. "Why are you here?"

"I can't tell you, I have no idea if you are safe from their influence." Specter replied, hoping to get the man interested.

"Who are _they?_" He asked with raised eyebrows.

"The Word of..." He paused. "No I can't trust you."

"Who can you trust, I am the only one you will talk to." The interrogator sighed. "If you don't reveal anything I'm sure your comrades will." He waved over a MP officer and whispered something in his ear. "I suppose that we will have to ask them directly."

He stood and brought his folding metal chair with him as he stepped ominously down the hall to another cell; Falcon's cell.

The interrogator's slithering voice seeped down to Specter's ears.

"_Tell me, what were you trying to accomplish? Who are you working for?"_

Specter had been pleased he had brought the clanner, now more than ever.

"Back off Freebirth!" She spat. "Stravag, you are lowest of the classes, the very lowest of the stepping stones."

"_No need to be so... violent... we have not harmed you in any way have we?"_

_"_Your presence offends me." She cursed.

Specter listened as the interrogator tried over and over to get Falcon to speak, but he might as well have spoken to a wall or statue which might have had some sort of inclination to appear to be listening. The man cursed, he trotted down to Beowulf's cell, but that far away the conversation was inaudible.

It seemed like hours before the man came fast-walking back to the exit of the brig with blood running down his nose, one of the MP's tried to help him but the ONI intelligence officer waved him away. A few more hours of timelessness passed until the leader of the project herself came in looking right serious. She came before Specter with a sneer forming on her face.

"Having trouble?" He asked politely inclining his head. "It was, after-all, _you_ we wanted to speak to... moreover _listen _to."

"Explain yourself." She ordered.

He nodded. "I'm not from _around here, _understand that first." He motioned his hands at the walls of the cold metal cell before facing the plexi-glass wall that separated him from the Vice Admiral.

"Go on."

"You see, I am from the year 3073, in a different universe, my ship entered somekind of wormhole I understand that now. But my reason for being here is: I wanted to make sure that our enemies from our universe weren't taking over this one. They are the 'Word of Blake' a quasi-religious group obsessed with technology."

"Why would you think they are here?"

"If they controlled this universe, they could mass armies and take them to the locations they want in this universe and then transport them into my own without being noticed. They could easily take over the galaxy of the place they came from." Specter sighed. "They are a deluded lot, obsessed with controlling people through any means necessary; and it appears they have found it."

"How do you know they are here?"

"They've been here a long time I think." He paused. "They had the power to send people here at any time of history, they could hold any position, own any business, be _any _soldier, _any _Spartan."

She raised her eyebrows. "They could not infiltrate the Spartan program."

"Are you sure?" He laughed. "Much of the equipment in your Novgorod labs had their symbol on it... the bloody hand-print." He took a breath. "In New Mombasa I saw Manei Domini, their version of the super-soldier, ordering the aliens to work on tasks and even the large brutes."

"How would they have power in the Covenant?" She was deeply puzzled, that much was obvious.

"Maybe they've always had it, maybe their influence of techno-mania inspired the Covenant, and perhaps they even made the Covenant start the war by convincing them that we were heretics according to their religion just so they could take our power."

"That's absurd..." She sank against the back wall, her old heart beating fast. "Let them out immediately and organize all the staff I want a review of everyone, _everyone."_

John smiled, he had actually convinced her, not even he would have believed it... but maybe there was something she knew about that he had no idea of. "Thank you." The plexi-glass wall slid back and let him out.

"You might want..." He was about to continue.

"Quiet." The admiral ordered. "Just follow me without another word; you've done quite enough."

"_What is she talking about?"_ Specter trailed after as she led the way through numerous passages and tunnels until they had reached a single elevator.

"Get in." She motioned with her hand for him to enter, which he did readily as he wanted to hear what she knew. Once he had stepped inside, she slipped in and closed shut the door behind her. The elavtor was about ten cubed meters in area, and was made with smooth brushed steel plates and a warm burgundy with silver trim carpet. A polished wooden chair rail went around the entirety of the wall.

Once they had ascended three levels, Parangosky pressed the 'hold' button and the elevator locked. She glanced around and pulled a bright steel pen from her pocket. She twisted the cap and pulled some device from inside it, and pressed a small red button with her thumb. Immediately a buzzing ring resonated throught the car.

"We can talk safely now." She smiled. "It's not like the Odin's Eye, but, it works well enough."

"What's the Odin's Ey..."

"Never mind that, I have a limited battery and I don't want to use it all for your sake." She sighed. "The UEG has been aware of some outside organization that has been infiltrating everything for the past hundred years. We've never been able to pinpoint who it was, most rebels actually attacked us and this infiltration was so long and painstaking that it almost went unnoticed."

"And..." Specter drew the word out as if he were pulling her answers from her throat.

"ONI section III has always been suspect, but it seems they're innocent. The thought that our 'rebels' could have made the Covenant attack us is unsettling indeed. How do these Word of Blake fight?"

"They've actually been known to eradiate worlds." Specter leaned against the wall. "Once or twice."

"They wouldn't care if they allowed the Covenant to glass worlds becuase their interest in the Forrunners." Parangosky surmised. "We need more information Specter, I know you probably have loyalties elsewhere but I need you to do something for me before I can let you chase them."

"What needs to be done?" He grinned. "I am a mercenary after all."

Parangosky choked. "Keep that to yourself, mercs are not a respectable thing here." Once she had regained her composure she answered his first question. "I need you to go to one of the worlds that the Covenant glassed, specifically one that was known to have Forrunner artifacts. This world was near the outer edges of our territory, I just wonder if the Word of Blake had the Covenant attack it because they wanted it for themselves. Go to Harvest and see if there's any activity in the area."

"Am I getting paid?" The jamming device gave off a small 'beep'.

"No time, I'll give you payment when you return." She allowed the elevator to continue upwards and deactivated the jamming device. "The rest of your companions will be released, we called your ship over to our docks, so they'll meet you there."

"Thank you." The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to the fierce cold winds. He grimaced as the wind bit through his orange jumpsuit. "Do you think I could have that armor back?" He leaned in closer and whispered. "We may need it."

The admiral shook her head and pointed to a crate on one of the docks. "I've taken the liberty of packing your things." His ship was right there, bobbing on the waves even though it was so close to shore.

Falcon, Bullseye, and Beowulf were all waiting for them one the deck, and Specter thought he could see Falcon glaring at some indefinite person. Specter waved behind him and ran onto the deck. "Cast off we have a new assignment!" He yelled, his voice carrying just as far as the ship's Captain's ears.

* * *

Once they had sailed for about five hours, Specter saw his Talon class drop ship hovering above the waves in the dim light of dusk. He had contacted his ship and gave them the coordinates for their meeting and he could already feel the warm air flowing from the bay doors. He was one of the first to climb aboard, and he hurried to order of of the technicians to bring aboard crate Parangosky had delivered to him.

It was another ten minutes before he was sure it was all clear that he told the ship to fly into a low orbit. And it was only after five more minutes that Specter had gotten his team to assemble around the crate. He climbed expertly to the top and addressed them all.

"We have another long mission ahead of us, and it will take a while to get to it. But hopefully whatever is inside this crate will help us to succeed on that world if we want to stay alive." He dropped down and started to open the crate.

"So, what is the job?" Hannibal queried.

"We are scouting out a world that was glassed twenty years ago." Specter hummed quietly to himself while he worked. "Our informant thinks that the Word of Blake might have taken the world, that there might still be something of interest."

"So you mean that we have to scout an entire world" Bullseye asked incredulously.

"No, just what's left of it." Specter grinned when at last the crate was ready to open. He popped off the lid and peered inside. "I was good this Christmas wasn't I?" He chuckled and pulled out a suit of SPI armor and other piles of gear for rough terrain. "There's enough for everyone."

"So what do we do when we find the WoB sir?" Beowulf hinted his doubts.

"I suppose we kill them, why?" Specter asked in reply.

"Good enough plan I guess, but there may be something important" Whoever had spoken was beyond Specter, but he still replied.

"Grab your new stuff and get it stowed in your quarters, and tell that Captain of ours to dock with a jump ship."

"Sir, the jump ship left with Victor." Castle reminded him, she smiled from her place in the group. "What, was I not supposed to be here?"

"No..."

"Then I guess you just didn't want to hear of a drawback like that one." Castle grinned. "I think we'll have a fine month stuck on Earth and not in transit."

"Contact those shipyards and see if they'd be willing to try some work on our ship..." Specter paused. "Is our ship too small?"

"Yes Specter." Falcon laughed. "This ship is not large enough for any manner of jump drives."

"Well then, see what ships are on the market and put ours on it. I hope the Captain isn't too attached to the Skippy. I think a thirty-first century ship should go for a lot nowadays shouldn't it?"

"Sir?" Beowulf coughed lightly to get his attention. "What about those labs on Triton, they said they were almost finished with their first real prototype, maybe they'd be willing to trade?"

"Yes!" Specter cheered. "A good plan, Castle go contact the Triton labs. I'm going to get some real food."

* * *

Yeah It is just about to get interesting, they need a new ship in order to get to their next mission, but is one ship worth another? Probably not, that Skippy's been through a lot, and it is after all just a Talon class drop ship. Specter wouldn't like it if I made him lose a mech or two huh?

-Tremble Wolf

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

Alternate Realty Ch 16:

"Back from Furlough"

October 17th 2556

Harvest, Outside of the new Capitol: Forge

05:07 GMT Specter Lance Command

The observation room was almost completely dark, the only source of light was from the glowing computer screens, two of them, that sat in the dim on top of a dark oak desk. The room was small, cramped, and occupied only by Bullseye, who reclined in a leather chair in front of the computer with his feet resting on the keyboard as he lazily chewed on a piece of an orange.

On the right-hand screen was a tactical map of their base and it's surrounding topography as from a bird's eye view. Bullseye glanced at it easily and nodded his head along to some beat from his headset, and he pulled off some detritus left on a piece of his orange-the stringy fibers that make eating an orange difficult even after peeling-and he dropped it into an ashtray that held no ash but rather orange peels; it was plain white ceramic.

The left-hand screen showed a view of space from a satellite camera, and a menu of dials and readings being displayed in real time on the right-hand side of the screen, scrolling, and scrolling down as it continually took readings and scans.

"Hey," Beowulf placed his hand on the back of the leather recliner and pulled back to get the occupant's attention. "pretty busy this morning aren't you?" He pulled a Marlboro from his mouth and dropped his ashes in the pile of orange peels.

"What?" Bullseye swung his legs off the desk and keyboard, and swiveled around about thirty degrees to see him. "Oh, yeah, you know, the usual." He glanced disapprovingly at the ash that had been placed on the second half of his orange where he had placed it in the ashtray. " You know I can't eat that anymore right?"

"Just brush it off or rinse it off if it bothers you that much." He examined the satellite feed for a moment, squinting his eyes as if that would make reading the fast flowing numbers easier to read. "I just got up, you want some coffee or something?"

"Yeah, my shift's just about over anyway. What's everyone else up to?" Bullseye asked as he dusted off the rest of his orange in annoyance, he had his headset pulled off his ears, and a drum beat could be heard dimly from where it hung around his neck. "The commander up yet?"

Beowulf sighed and leaned against the bulkhead wall that came in close and made the observation room so small. The room was really a small space that they had built out of the way underneath the stairs to the Commander's quarters, office, and conference area.

"He's already up and in his office, busy with his monthly report to Section Three." Beowulf answered casually. "Hard to believe that in only a few years we've done so much, come so far that now we actually work here full-time."

"I just figured that the Commander would find a way back, but now I'm finally realizing that maybe there really is no going back; we could be here the rest of our lives." Bullseye shrugged and popped an orange into his mouth. "What really matters is where we are now, no sense in worrying too much about getting back, we have enough to do today. Why are you smoking that in here? you know I just quit."

Beowulf took a last drag and blew a large smoke ring into Bullseye's face with a smile. "I'm done anyway." He killed the cigarette in the ashtray and nodded in satisfaction. "I'll go get that coffee." He pushed off the bulkhead with his back and stepped out of the small room into the hall outside, the automatic door closed down with a quiet hiss.

"Ahh," Bullseye sighed "This is an easy job."

Outside Beowulf walked down the hall about five feet and then turned the corner to headed down the stairs towards the cafeteria. The best part of all this, their work on Harvest, was that they were able to get their own base again just like when they were hired by House Davion-only this time they had a smaller base and half the armory they used to on Outreach.

He went down one flight of stairs and exited onto a floor that was occupied by only one room, well really it was one space that had several different rooms without walls between them, there was the kitchen area to the north, the tables and mess area to the east, a lounge area to the west, and to the south was the entrance where he came from and restrooms on either side of it.

He walked straight ahead toward the kitchen area and stopped by the island to pick up two paper cups from a tower of them beside the coffee machine and placed them each under the dispensers and pressed the small fill button for each. For some reason one of his favorite moments was in the morning, getting coffee, listening to the sound as it spilled steaming hot into the cups, and smelling the rich aroma of fresh cheap coffee.

It only took about a minute, but the two cups were filled and hot, so he put on a lid for each and was once again relieved-as he always was-that the dispenser added sugar and cream while it filled the coffee at the same time. As he headed back towards the stairs, he glanced out the window, the landscape was almost alive; that is of course only around their base at the top of a bluff overlooking the ocean where it was green and lush from the grass they had seeded.

He carefully made his way back up the flight of stairs, anxious because of the annoying swirling that happened to the contents of each cup at his every step. When he entered the observatory room Bullseye was sitting straight up in his chair typing into the console with a sense of light urgency, or rather due import. So Charles Harding-Beowulf set one of the paper cups down on the desk next to the ash tray with a sense of unease. "You seem busy, is something wrong? Is it a problem with the satellite again?"

Bullseye swiveled in his chair to face him, and then picked up the cup of coffee to take a gulp. "No, there's some strange slipspace echoes being picked up, signs that a ship is going to be dropping in."

"And why is that a problem?" A new voice asked, it held the usual tone of command that Specter always spoke with.

"They don't match any of our database's signatures, in fact they seem less like an incoming ship and more like an anomaly." He continued typing in queries foe the computer. "However, that isn't likely as we just refitted and updated the satellite network two standard weeks ago."

"Hmm, are you sure a ship is incoming?" John-Specter asked as he cut around the chair in one swift motion to get a view of the computer."Let me see..."

"It appears to be an echo of an approaching something, however, the signal is similar to a jumpship; we aren't expecting our Buzzard back for another three weeks." Bullseye narrowed his eyes as he checked the inflow of data. "Either they're coming back early, or we have a problem."

Beowulf sipped quietly on his coffee and nodded toward Specter to get his attention. "Do you think that the Word of Blake is back?"

"We have been dutifully guarding the city and the research team successfully for three years..." Bullseye nodded as Specter continued. "Parangosky said that our real mission was going to be hidden from everyone else in the UEG until she could verify who was safe to tell."

"Perhaps," Bullseye interjected, "Perhaps the Word of Blake is just investigating, assuming it is them, after all it could be another unfortunate jumpship from, well..."

"I'll contact Castle and have her order Hannibal Lance to return from patrol." As Specter reached the door he looked back over his shoulder with a glance that said more than his words.

"We'll be ready commander." Beowulf stated assuredly. "Bullseye, you know what to do."

"Aye-aye, wait here and continue to monitor." He reached into the breast pocket of his green uniform and pulled out a plastic comb, and then proceeded to brush back into order his beleaguered all-nighter hair. "Leave it to me, I'll keep you guys appraised of the situation until Castle takes over."

Specter turned out the door, with Beowulf close on his heels.

"Just keep your chatter on!" Bullseye yelled as they left. "This job just became worth it." He laughed, chuckled really, and placed his headset back on his head, and pulled the mic down into position in front of his mouth.

•

"Commander, I've just contacted Hannibal and ordered him to return and refit." Castle's voice stated into Specter's ear from his chatter's headset. "Bullseye has been relieved and set off toward the mechbay with the intention of pulling his Thor out of storage."

"Very good Castle, inform my lance I want them at the mechbay choosing their load outs two hours ago." He replied with his usual pressure. "Tell Falcon that use of her modified reactor settings and alien weapons set have been authorized."

"Do we still not know who is coming?" She asked, her voice sounding somewhat elsewhere.

"You said you relieved Bullseye, so if he didn't know, and didn't tell you, then it's up to you to find out." He sighed as he reached the stairwell from his office, from there it went down to the observation room's floor, one that was mostly unused because it was not really a floor in itself, but rather an area built between two floors. He hurried down the half flight, waving as he passed the open door to where Castle sat at work in the small room. From there he went down the rest of the flight of stairs, passed the floor which held the mess, down another flight which led to the quarters of the base's staff—his men.

Finally, the last flight led down to the Ready Room, Mechbay, armory, and storage for ammunition, armor, and weapons not in use. This was the ground level, below that there was a secret research base he had been ordered to guard, one that it's only access was through a secret elevator built in the storage area.

The stairwell was in the center, to the north was the storage area, east the armory, west the Mechbay, and lastly to the south was his Ready Room. He turned south and crossed the open space that had no walls around the stairwell and left each area open to the others. Only his Ready Room was walled off, and even then it was a small rectangular room at the far south end that had only a three hundred square foot area. The length of the room was roughly the same distance he had to cross to get to the door.

Inside his other three lance mates were waiting, Bullseye, Falcon, and Beowulf. Beowulf and Falcon were already wearing their jumpsuits, and had their neurohelmets under arm. Bullseye, though, was standing at the left end of the room rummaging in his locker as he tried to disentangle his jumpsuit from where it hung.

Specter went over to his locker, the one on the far right, there was a space in-between the first four and the last four; the right side was for Specter Lance, the left was for Hannibal Lance. He popped his open and pulled his jumpsuit and helmet out with ease and pulled them on over his uniform. Then, he reached in and donned a cooling vest: curtesy of Victor and Peter Davion before they abandoned him and his team in a foreign universe.

"Here," Specter sighed and tugged hard at the jumpsuit that Bullseye was trying to get out of his locker. "I glued the sleeve on last night as a joke, obviously poor timing on my part."

"If it were anyone else commander..." Bullseye left it hanging, but also grabbed his neurohelmet and his cooling vest. "Clanner, Beowulf, why aren't you wearing your vests?"

They each held theirs up at about the same time, Falcon didn't bother to smile, annoyed at what was supposed to be an insult, but instead an affirmation of what she was.

"Bullseye, get in gear and sit down." Specter pointed toward the two benches that sat on either side of a plain metal coffee table. He stopped by a small buffet built into the wall across from the door and put down a paper cup under a dispenser and filled it with a yellow liquid.

He sat down on an empty space before the coffee table and took a sip of his lemonade. "Okay people," He said at last, after a long gulp that finished the contents of his cup. "Castle," He spoke into his headset. "What's your status?"

"The echo is passed, and it seems that we do have a jumpship incoming, I expect it's arrival in about a minute sir." The sounds of keys being pressed in quick succession could be heard over the comm.

"Specter Lance, we are going to mount up and head out, we have a job to do, and this time it's for real." He crushed his empty cup excitedly and threw it into a trashcan at the far corner of the room. "We'll rendezvous with Hannibal at the east courtyard in ten minutes. Move out."

He stood and led the way out of the door, and headed straight for the western section, the Mechbay. This area was built outwards of the main building, and was about three and a half stories tall. It was lined with alcoves where his battlemechs could be held in readiness for use. There were four alcoves on each wall, opposite each other, the right side was for his lance and the left for Hannibal's. Since he was the Command, his MadCat was stored in the bay farthest from the Ready Room, but closest to the bay doors that led outside.

He stepped up to his MadCat and smiled nostalgically before waving one of their few technicians over. "Is it ready to go? What load out?"

He had to yell a little over the din of machinery as techs worked on attaching weapons, doing last minute checks, and loading ammunition where appropriate. "Sir, your MadCat has been outfitted with your Alternate B settings, as you know, we long since ran out of ammunition for the majority of our old weapons, LBX, AA, LRMs, and etcetera. So, we have been supplied with close approximations from the UNSC..."

"I know all that, I read it in the latest logistics report that came with our last supply drop." Specter replied with annoyance. "Get to the point."

"Anyway, we were able to load your MadCat with re-purposed Scorpion tank rounds for it's Autocannon, it's caliber is somewhere in-between that of the AC-10 and the AC-20, you have one on each arm in addition to the large lasers."

"AC, Lasers, what else? I know that that isn't enough to complete the weight limit."

"Your missile racks have been replaced with slightly smaller Archer missiles, comparable to an LRM-15, since there were no more hard points available for weapons or ammunition, we put in a slightly more powerful engine and a little bit more armor on your center torso." The tech glanced up at the MadCat, the shape looked almost like the old one, almost right, but it's missile racks were shorter, its arms had slightly longer barrels poking out, but beyond that it looked almost like an old Madcat.

"Oh and sir?" The tech cautioned. "The range of those cannons is shorter because we had to modify the barrels to allow for maneuverability, your range should be about eight-hundred meters."

"Thanks." Specter stepped into the small one-man lift to the right of his mech and pressed the small up button on the arm rail. It sped up the forty foot distance in about three seconds and he stepped out onto the ledge that led toward his open cockpit.

He got in, strapped in his five point harness, pulled on his neurohelmet and plugged it in before powering on his mech for checks. then he stated his passcode.

"Commander John Kurtis Anderson, passcode Stravinsky, Gamma 673594."

The computer responded calmly, "Identity confirmed, powering on." There was a moment where the power rushed on, Specter could feel the myomer muscles powering the movements of his mech like his own, and he felt as usual that his mech was an extension of his body. No, rather is wasn't an extension but instead an part he had always had.

"Reactors: online, sensors: online, weapons: online. All systems nominal." The computer recited it's brief standard system checks and then hummed with life as the reactor came fully online.

"Specter Lance, are you all powered up?" He waited for the clamps to pull away from his mech before he powered the throttle a little so as to step out of the alcove and swivel around to look at his lance mates. Bullseye was still powering on his humanoid Thor even though he had gone out early to get it ready, Beowulf was just pulling out of his alcove in his Novacat, and Falcon was already waiting for him perched in her eager looking Shadowcat, which oddly enough looked more like a Covenant Wraith than it did a mech. This was because she had replaced the armor with salvaged Scarab plating, and the reactor was reverse engineered based off the Covenant plasma drives. She still had a set of C-STRK 6 missiles, small short-range auto locking missiles that did a decent amount of damage. Also, she had worked in several small pulse lasers into her torso, and a fuel rod cannon in either arm.

Specter found himself feeling jealous, because she basically had a ballistic cannon with no need for ammunition as it was powered by her reactor like his lasers were.

"Okay team, this is how it's going to be, Castle, has the ship arrived yet?"

"Perfect timing Commander, I was just about to tell you that the jumpship was arrived, it looks like a small jumpship bearing two Overlord dropships with the insignia of the Word of Blake. They are inbound on your position Commander, I think they know we are here."

"Move out team, meet up with Hannibal outside and then we will take up positions around the base. Castle, contact base security and have them power on the point defense systems." He maneuvered his mech toward the bay door, and waited for the doors to part wide enough for his mech to pass through before stepping outside. Their base was situated on a bluff overlooking the city about three or four kilometers away and roughly one kilometer below their position.

"Aye commander, they are powering on, it will take a solid ten minutes after the arrival of the dropships for them to become optimally active. The WOB's ETA is about ten minutes from now sir, they've hit the upper atmosphere and are still heading toward us."

"Understood," Specter swiveled his Madcat around to get a good view of his men. "Alright this is the fight we've been waiting for! So let's go kick some-"

"Commander this is Castle, new information, it looks like the two Overlords are splitting up and a Talon dropship is speeding ahead. If you want my opinion I think they are going to perform a hot-drop to secure an LZ and keep any fire off the Overlords until they land."

"So they had to play it smart, typical." He refocused his attention on his job: fighting them off. "Hannibal lance, I want you to secure the hot-drop LZ and call me if you need backup. We are going to stay close to the base in case this is a feint to get us to leave our defenses open. Stay on passive sensors and ECM to get in close without being noticed and surprise them as soon as they jump out of the ship."

"Roger that." Hannibal responded with his usual deep voice and calm demeanor. "Moving out."

"Specter lance I want everyone here to split up and cover each side of the building from the aerial-defense platforms." Specter was referring to the platforms built into the side of the building that were raised and accessible from the ground and enabled his mechs to get a higher view and a better angle against flying or falling targets.

They split up, with Specter at the north, Falcon at the west, Beowulf at the east, and Bullseye to the south. They waited for about five minutes just watching the skies until Hannibal reported back that the Talon dropship had opened its doors and a medium demi-lance had dropped out.

(A Demi-lance is one-and-a-half lances: 6 battlemechs)

"They have two Bushwackers, a Ryoken, a Chimera, and two Uziels." Hannibal reported over the comm. "Targeting the Uziels, no problem here."

Specter smiled inside his cockpit. "Sounds like a fun fight, good choice against the Uziels those PPCs pack one helluva punch. Try not to get your sensors or equipment fried."

"You don't need to tell me that." He responded amiably-even as the sound of missile launches could be heard over his comm.

Two minutes passed, and Specter's lance was getting antsy, a third minute passed before Hannibal reported again. "We cleared them out, moving back to refit: we used a lot of ammunition to take them out quick."

"Copy that, Castle, what's the situation with those Overlords? Why don't we see them yet?" Specter asked as he scanned the skies.

"It looks like they've begun to veer off, just as the demi-lance was destroyed. From the projection it looks like they're going to land several kilometers north of our position and try to get a staging ground secure before moving in to attack. It is highly probable they wanted to test our response before committing themselves to a full-on attack."

"Sounds good." He sighed. "Specter lance we will have first watch while Hannibal and his team get refit and take a break. I want a patrol and watch set in rotation constantly. Castle get the base defense ground team in position to keep a watch for intruders and tighten the security against covert infiltration."

"Yes sir." She paused for a moment as if hesitating to ask. "Do you really think that necessary Commander? This is the Word of Blake, won't they just send as many 'mechs as they have?"

"That's highly probable Castle." He agreed. "But it never hurts to be careful, These word of Blake split of from ComStar years back, so that means they are just as strong as those guys who beat back the clans during their first bid for Terra. I wouldn't underestimate them."

"Yes sir, you're probably right." The sound of her chair rolling across the floor sounded from the speakers and quiet voices were barely audible above the sound of Specter's mech in operation and motion.

"Castle what's going on?" He tapped his mic. "Is there a problem?"

She breathed a sigh and then answered. "Somewhat of that sir, we sent out a few drones to get details as they land and make their LZ, but I'm afraid they have more firepower than I had accounted for previously."

"Just give it to me, how bad is it?" He glanced over his shoulder to look through his window to the east and swiveled his mech so he could get a view of Beowulf's Novacat. He was also looking over, and his zoom he was able to see Beowulf giving him a grim smile. He waved and then spoke into the mic. "Just how much firepower are they putting down?"

"Well the situation is like this sir, they have dropships with a full heavy lance, a medium-heavy mixed lance, and another lance of what seems to be state-of-the-art assault-class omnimechs, I think some things have changed in our absence."

Specter grimaced. "What do you think they are? Clan omni's or new Lyran tech or whatever."

"One looks like the Fafnir, only it looks a little slimmer and lighter. I think they may be using lighter armor plating or new materials. I doubt the power of its lasers or Heavy Gauss rifles have changed much though, just expect it to be more maneuverable." She tapped her fingers on the desk, the sound was just inside Specter's range of hearing. "Defiance Industries took quite a hit during the FedCom Civil war, but they may have recovered some with Blake funding... I don't know Commander."

"What about the others Castle?"

"I'm scanning the drone footage now." She was silent for about half a minute until. "Alright, I'm looking at the footage of the assaults again, There is definitely an Atlas, a Masakari, and a Gladiator. Though I suppose that the Atlas and Fafnir aren't omnimechs after all."

"It's been a couple years, I wouldn't bet against them buying the latest fashion when it comes to heavy metal." Specter commented on the fact that the Atlas and Fafir could be new and therefore the possibility of them being updated with omni-hardpoints was possible. An omni-hardpoint is a hardpoint on a mech's chassis that is able to mount any type of the three weapon types used frequently on battlemechs: Energy weapons, Missiles, and Ballistic cannons and machine guns.

"If what you say is true, then keep an eye on that Atlas, if it has such capability we may find heavier weapons in places we didn't expect." She warned, knowing full well that an Atlas could pack any number of weapons, but if its design was simplified and streamlined it would carry a strange compliment of unbalanced weapons, such as a Heavy Gauss cannon in addition to an Arrow IV system.

"Alright, keep me posted after the next flyby and let me know as soon as they start to set up camp or send out scouts." He swiveled his MadCat's torso around so more and angled the pitch a bit so he could get a view of the ground beneath their base. So far everything was clear, there were hardly any trees and cover was minimal-which meant that the Word of Blake strike team would have to come in guns blazing since they couldn't get anywhere close undetected.

"Sir, I know we have the high ground and the point defenses, but they have a serious weight and numerical advantage on us." Beowulf stated over the comm as Castle returned to her work.

"We'll manage," He turned to the western platform. "Falcon, how's the situation look to you?"

"Neg," She replied. "Those Stravags are no match for us Commander." She sounded proud, and eager to go in for the kill.

"I understand your sentiments Falcon, but we should hold on to our advantage and find the best way to take them down."

"Understood." She answered, somewhat disappointed.

They scanned the horizon and waited, and after three hours they were relieved by Hannibal's now refitted lance. Once Specter had parked his MadCat in the hangar he dropped down the ladder and hailed the technician. "I want you to refuel and refit these as soon as possible, we don't know how much time we have before they decide to attack."

"Yes sir." The technician nodded and then ran off toward the other technicians and pointed toward the mechs and spoke in a voice that Specter couldn't hear form that distance.

* * *

October 17th 2556

18:24 GMT

"Commander I have movement." Castle's voice announced on the intercom.

He bolted upright from his cot, he had just laid down after his last stint on the platforms keeping watch, and had only slept for about half an hour. But considering the circumstances that was enough. He swung his legs off his cot and rushed to his headset-chatter that sat on his desk next to an empty mug sitting on a dry coffee-ring. He put it on his ear and pressed the on button and turned the dial so as to choose frequency presets until he got Castle.

"Tell me what we got, I'm on my way now." He pulled on his jumpsuit and his boots in a rush and bolted out the door.

"Alright, meet me in the observation room on your way to the Mechbay." She clicked in a mad rush on her keyboard. "The mixed lance is doing a patrol around what seems to be a solid base of operations. The Assault lance has docked in a pre-fab hangar, and the heavies seem to be using ECM and are heading toward Forge's main power plant."

"Well, they are just making our job more difficult. If I understand my orders correctly it means we have to do whatever we can in defense of the colony."

"Which means we have to stop them, exactly right commander." She finished. "I'm printing off some maps and finishing a brief you can give to the rest, I'll still provide the usual informational session but with the time-constraints I'm afraid we won't be as prepared as usual."

He swung around the door frame at that moment with an outstretched hand, and the other turning off his chatter. She passed over a stack of about five pages, a map, three surveillance photos and a tactical data-sheet. "I'll take that. Round up the others if you would, but keep Hannibal Lance on standby: this could be a diversion so as to split us up."

"We'll hold the fort until you get back. The way I see it they may try to attack us or ambush you, either way we'll be ready."

He nodded and dashed out the door and down to the Mechbay, into the readyroom, and donned his cooling vest and neurohelmet. In less than a minute his three lance-mates entered and suited up as well. Once they were ready he waved them out the door.

"Okay team, this is a mystery." He yelled over the din of machines pulling away from the mechs. "They are heading for the power plant with one heavy lance, it's our job to stop them. From these pictures we know they have at least the lance consisting of a BlackKnight, Catapult, Argus, and a Loki. I expect they probably have a team of vehicles and tanks following so keep your eyes and ears open. There is a high chance they may try to ambush us or the base, so double time it and hit hard. Don't worry about conserving coolant, we need to get back ASAP, so Alpha-Strike it up."

"Yes sir." Bullseye grinned: he longed to put his Thor through it paces.

"Roger that commander." Beowulf nodded and then ran off toward his Novacat.

"Understood." Falcon grinned, evilly, bloodthirstily.

"Alright I want out of those bay doors in two minutes tops!" He hit the lift and jumped into his cockpit, strapped in, and powered on. "Emergency override, password protection cancellation: Voice command: Battle of New Avalon."

The computer skipped the usual password and just powered on with a simple. "Command received, authorization confirmed, system check canceled."

He pushed the throttle and turned toward the bay doors, his mech's feet pawed the ground subconsciously as he waited for the door to part enough for him to fit. Finally the doors were wide, and he powered through into the darkening night. The stars provided more than enough light, but he still turned on his night-amplification setting. "Keep your lights off and your sensors active, we need to find them fast-make a bee-line for the power plant. Echelon left formation now!"

They swung into the shape of an echelon, except with an extra person on the left side, toward where the uncertain terrain and the Word of Blake would most likely hide. Specter led, and they trudged at a speed of 80 kilometers per hour, top speed for most heavies. As they marched Falcon suddenly spoke over the comm.

"Where did they get a Hellbringer quiaff?" She still spoke in the strange accent of a Jade Falcon-the source of her given codename.

"I wouldn't know, perhaps they got it off of any number of clanners they've most likely subjugated by now." Specter answered.

"I doubt it." She snorted. "No one has the power to beat down the Jade Falcon, not even the Wolf, or your Operation BullDog."

He raised one eyebrow at her mentioning a war fought almost thirty years preciously; a war instigated at the reformation of the Star League and that crushed the Clan Smoke Jaguar into non-existence. "You might have a point, I doubt the Inner Sphere states would have much power at the moment from what I can imagine."

They then continued in silence, the only sound that of the thumping beneath their feet as they bounded down hill toward the city and the power plant on its outskirts. It seemed like forever, but at last they saw red dots appear on their IFF-RADAR, set about 250 meters away to the north of them amidst a copse of trees.

"Contact!" Bullseye crowed, and hit his jumpjets. His mech soared above the heads of the others and he aimed down with his PPC's and Archer missiles. His salvo connected with sparks and explosions as his particle beams connected first with the arm of the Argus, and his missiles splashed over its torso.

"Okay square off everyone, pick your targets." He hardly needed to say it as he singled out the BlackKnight, it always looked fearsome with it broad torso, humanoid figure, and built-in shield on its arm. He fired his main cannons in series, one after the other and them followed them up with one laser after the other. The cannons shook his MadCat's frame as its detonation had more impulse than he expected.

He fired the lasers, and then waited for his missile lock to ping. It did, and he let fly. The missiles didn't connect, as the BlackKnight fired chaff and its LAMS anti missile system destroyed any that didn't get distracted. It was barely scratched, with what looked like more than the usual amount of Reactive armor.

He shook his head as a bead of sweat from his brow dripped into his eye. When fighting an equal or larger opponent it was important to keep them off balance. Timing was all-important, he had to keep track of his reload-and-recycle times and those of his opponent. He also had to keep an eye on the fights between the other mechs and hopefully lure his enemy into friendly fire while dodging his shots and any that his allies might try to aid him with. In that kind of situation Specter knew he had to keep him rocking and throw off his aim by fire in sequence instead of all at once and not having anything to fire when recycling.

He had three seconds before his first cannon recycled, the BlackKnight hadn't fired a shot, but from his TAG equipment the weapon loadout had been scanned and specter _knew_ he was going to fire his PPC's first. He saw it, the light crackling at the barrels on his arms, and from one on the right torso: three PPC's being prepared to fire in concert. Oddly his mind snapped back to the Solaris VII arena, something Dunkin Fisher said came back his him clear as day. "It seems to me that most pilots are All-or-no D when it comes to fighting, but the ones who always last the longest are the ones who know how to spread the damage, when to turn, how to stop, I swear it seems some of those guys can make their mech do a ballet..."

He pulled his throttle into reverse, and then stopped, and pulled his MadCat into a crouch. The PPC's flared past him, just inches from his chassis, grazing the armor as it was attracted to the metal. He jumped up, powered by his myomer muscles in his mech's legs, and pushed them to the limits of its speed and dashed to the side. Specter swiveled his torso and pulled the trigger as each weapon was rearmed. His first cannon shot followed the less mobile BlackKnight as it tried to dodge, and hit the arm, crushing the barrel of one of the PPC's. His second round reverberated through his arm and into his back, rattling his teeth as it screamed from the barrel.

_I swear this is no where near an AC20, it has to be equal to or greater than!_

The shell impacted the right hip-actuator and crushed the armor into the joint to hamper movement-not that he meant to aim there, that was accidental. No pilot could always get the shots they aimed for, there was always the element of the other pilot. He pulled the trigger and watched as both his lasers beamed bright green into the chest of the BlackKnight and seared their way deep through the armor for just less than a second.

It stumbled and fired a wash of MRM-20's in his general direction, despite their strength the missiles were not a favorite of Specter-always needing a NARC beacon to lock on to a target-as such they pass by harmlessly. Specter released his salvo of Archer missiles and watched with satisfaction as they got a lock and swung around the BlackKnight into the air.

He smiled, _Poor guy thinks they missed, oh they did the first time, but like bad Karma they always come back around._

Indeed, the salvo of missile turned and swung back in an arc and collided into the back of the BlackKnight as it fired it's remaining two PPC's and a series of medium Lasers, burning away the armor on his MadCat's torso.

He pulled back to a stop, paused to aim, and then released the two newly loaded shells into the hole that had been opened by his previous attacks. They exploded inside the center torso of the BlackKnight, and a wave of light bloomed outward.

"The BlackKnight's going critical, stand back!" He announced on the comm. The mech collapsed as its strength and powered faded and its reactor went critical. It exploded in a wide a bright flash of light sending shrapnel in every direction.

He searched for targets. Falcon's ShadowCat expertly knocked the Loki down and pointed her barrels into the cockpit and hailed over the comm. "Yield!"

He grinned and watched as Beowulf cornered the Catapult and fired an Alpha-Strike of all five Large Lasers into its leg, severing it and causing the mech to collapse in a heap. "Mine's down too Commander."

Bullseye yawned over the comm. "I had to fight the Argus, that thing went down in seconds."

Specter paused, it was all a little too easy, their enemies seemed a little too lacking in experience and skill. "We're heading back everyone, even though we haven't heard anything I get the feeling the power plant wasn't their main target after all, and I'd hazard a guess we weren't their target either. Return to base, I think we're under attack."

* * *

_A/N: Hello everyone, sorry for taking so long, I've been busy. I'll try to keep up now ok? Anyhow, I'll try my best to make this interesting as usual._

-Tremble Wolf


End file.
